


Hollow » Zarry

by itszaynandharry



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Abuse, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 100
Words: 80,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6424231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itszaynandharry/pseuds/itszaynandharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Help! He's trying to rape me! Stop it Harry!"</p><p>Harry chuckles. "Don't be silly Zayn. It's only rape if you don't want it."</p><p>"But I don't wan-" Except he can't finish his sentence because Harry is putting the tape over his mouth and sealing it well.</p><p>★Or the one where 18 year old Harry isn't all there mentally and he refuses to stop inappropriately touching 16 year old Zayn who is already a broken boy.★</p><p>WARNING: This story contains explicit language, scenes of sexual abuse, violence, references to suicide as well as suicidal tendencies, thoughts and actions. If you are sensitive to this kind of material or feel the least bit uncomfortable, I suggest you do not read on. (More warnings under Notes of first chapter)</p><p>FRIENDLY ADVICE: If you don't like this story or the idea of the plot, pls don't comment in the comment section about how much you dislike it or question my reason for writing and then turn around and complain about me being rude in return. I am not pushing this in your face and forcing you to read it, so pls move on to another story that suits your taste. It's not that hard. Thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings :
> 
> ⊙This story contains explicit language, scenes of sexual abuse, violence, references to suicide as well as suicidal tendencies, thoughts and actions. If you are sensitive to this kind of material or feel the least bit uncomfortable, I suggest you do not read on.  
> ⊙Multiple Sexual Scenes  
> ⊙100 short Chapters  
> ⊙Please know this does not necessarily represent the views and opinions of the author.  
> ⊙100% sure you'll feel a rollercoaster of emotions.
> 
> ▇→This story is mine but was originally posted on Wattpad under my account there.(itsZaynAndhaRRY) I don't know if you know other people who have read this story there, but if you do, they'll tell you I'm serious about the warnings. A lot of people finished the story depressed, angry and worked up, so I'm not kidding. Don't say I didn't warn you←▇

Zayn Malik.

What is there to say about him? Not much. He's only 15. He's got average grades, a keep-to-himself personality and he's a typical example of what people like to call a geek. _They have one stupid reason for using that word_ , Zayn thinks. Because he knows he's not that smart. As was mentioned, he's barely got average grades. _It's these stupid glasses._ The ones he has to wear for his eyesight. People are idiots to make jokes about that.

Actually, he thinks people are idiots anyway. Because they have no clue about the internal battle he's had sense he was 13. They don't know about the internal suicidal thoughts, the nights when he just wants to cut his head off and bleed all over the carpet in his room. They're all blind as to just how broken he really is.

He's thought many times about ending it all, right in his own home. He knows his mother doesn't know about him. And he's even laughed when pondering what the look on her face will be when she tries to wake him up and can't. He wonders how many tears will actually fall when she sees him lifeless. He hopes she takes it hard.

As hard as his twisted mind wants that, he still refuses to cut his wrists. He doesn't want her to see cuts on his body. And not because he won't be able to take her sadness when she finds out, but because he dreads having to spend weeks in a psychiatric hospital. He knows that if she finds out, that is what will happen.

That's also the reason why he hasn't exactly taken the last step and tried to kill himself yet. He knows from seeing other teenagers that when their suicide attempts fail, their parents often send their kids there. _That's worse than death._ Zayn thinks. _Much worse._

Something else too, that stopped him from taking his life, is that since he started having these suicidal thoughts at age thirteen, there's been this white filmy, foggy figure with no face that appears in his dreams nearly every night.

At first he wasn't sure what it was. He just knew it would only appear while he was sleeping and try to comfort him. But then after a while, when he saw he could sometimes hear the voice of the figure even when he was awake, he realized it was really a voice in his head. His messed up brain was just making the voice become in essence, alive. Making it real to him. And he liked it.

Zayn doesn't have demons-before anyone hauls off and assumes-He's just got issues. Mental issues that he hides from the world. And no one ever knows about it, nor does he ever intend for them to know. What happens in Zayn Malik's head, stays in Zayn Malik's head...

"Whatcha daydreaming about?" Someone taps the lunch table and Zayn looks up to see Harry, the captain of the soccer team, with his backpack draped across his shoulder.

"N-Nothing." He stutters in return, and he gulps nervously not knowing whether he should be looking at Harry or not. It's safe to say that Harry scares him. But at the same time, there's something about him that confuses and attracts him.

"We've got practice today."

Zayn looks down to avoid his gaze. "I know." Then he feels a hand on his shoulder. But it's not just resting there like normal people would do. It's rubbing there. The same way it always does.

Intimately.

Zayn tenses and looks at his lunch tray. At first he was somewhat okay with it. Now he isn't. He just wants Harry not to touch him today. He just wants one day of the school week to go by without Harry's hand touching... places. Zayn is 15. Harry is 17. Zayn is a junior, Harry is a senior. Zayn can't even imagine being with Harry, yet. And each time Harry's hands wander over him, it makes him feel so angry and disgusting, that he considers using the razor just once on his wrist, so he can see how beautiful his blood can be when it's spilling out.

He bets it's pretty. He wonders if it'll look good running down the drain of the white sink at home. Better yet, if it'll look better splattered against his room wall. But then again, all he has to do is remember how much he dreads a psychiatric hospital if it doesn't completely work. So he pushes the thought of Harry touching him, out of his mind and he pretends like it's not even happening.

*****

This story is my own. So please be kind and not steal anything from it.


	2. 2

Zayn has his reasons for the way he is. One can say he was born that way and sure, that's slightly true. Because is mother knew the moment he was born that her baby was different. She always thought he'd grow out of it though. She made herself believe that and she ignored the reality. But Zayn's hiding still doesn't help or make a way for her point of view to change anytime soon.

If one wants to be technical, it actually started at age 13. When he was 13, he struggled with puberty hard. It was kind enough to give him drop dead gorgeous looks, but the aftermath and the consequences were not very good.

During that time, Zayn as still learning his like, dislikes, his personality... There was a lot involved. But one thing out of all this really screwed him over. He found that he was a bit "confused" with himself. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to like the guys or the girls. When those thoughts started happening, so did the figure and the voice. Sometimes at night, when he'd go to sleep and the mysterious white figure was there, Zayn would pour out his heart to it. Once when he had done it, it told him "Be who you really are."

But who is he? He doesn't know. He thought joining the soccer team in his freshman year would help him figure it out. But that's when he met Harry. That's when Harry started to touch him and that's when he began to slowly value his life as empty and valueless...

Hollow.

High school sucks is what Zayn quickly found out the very first week of freshman year. And even though he is now in the 11th grade and has been on the school's soccer team since then, he still isn't comfortable in the locker rooms, the place where he and his teammates should be a family. He's still getting used to the fact that the guys here treat each other differently than they do him. They joke around and horseplay with each other, but they ignore Zayn as if he isn't even there.

Well... Everyone except Harry and 3 other irrelevant guys which are his followers and members of the team. Harry likes to reach in Zayn's shower and change his comfortable setting of running water to scorching hot or freezing cold because he likes for Zayn to run out of it totally embarrassed and covering himself. It's a good laugh for he and his boys as always, and Zayn can't figure out if this is worse than death or not.

Probably.

_Wait a second. What am I saying? It is worse than death. Anything is worse than death._

*

*

*

Zayn is standing on the sidelines waiting for the first match of the fall season to start. But he knows he won't get in the game because , well let's face it, even though he wants to, this is the real world. And in the real world, he never gets in. The thought of it makes him feel scared and lonely. He joined this team for one thing. And not getting in games, is defeating all his intended purposes. Zayn's clasps his hands together lightly as if that will stop him from crying.

It doesn't.

"You're crying because you can't get in? Wow, you're a sissy."

Of course it's none other than Harry. This is how he acts when his friends are there standing beside him to laugh and joke at Zayn as well. It never fails.

"Ha! Crying? See how pathetic you are?!" Zayn avoids his blue eyes.

"Have fun keeping the much warm for us." Zayn ignores his blonde hair shimmering in the light.

"What he said." And Zayn wants to cut this guys face right at his skinny beard.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he keeps it all inside and he refrains from ripping his jersey away from his body. He refrains from the suicidal thoughts that are knocking at the door of his brain and he does his best to pretend.

_One little soccer match and it'll all be over Zayn. One little match and you can go home and lock yourself away._


	3. 3

Zayn walks inside his home, not bothering to speak to his mother who in turn, doesn't try to speak to him either. He's just gotten in from soccer practice and he's tired. So he throws himself into his bed and closes his eyes. He's wondering why he's even on this stupid team in the first place. It's such a dumb idea.

But he's on it because he feels like he needs to be. So he can prove something.

That he likes girls.

That he isn't what everyone says about him.

Especially everything Harry says. Because he's wrong.

_Isn't he?_

Today, at soccer practice, Harry told Zayn that wearing his glasses, makes him look like a geek and a faggot.

_The F word... I hate it...._

If glasses really make him look like that, then Zayn ponders taking them off and never wearing them again. He can see enough without them. It's not necessarily a necessity. Okay... that's probably not the best idea. But he doesn't want to look like any one of those things. If it's what he has to do then it's what he'll do.

.

.

.

(All Zayn's dreams will begin and end like: •••...•••...•••...•••...•••...)

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

"What are you trying to prove Zayn?" Zayn is standing on the roof of his house for no reason at all and for the life of him he's trying to figure out what he's doing with this pointless life of his.

"Why do you care?"

"What are you trying to prove?" the figure asks again, ignoring him. "They're just glasses. Choosing not to wear them won't change who you really are. You know that right?"

"That's not the point. It's... It's what they say I look like in them." Zayn says. "I'm not a homosexual... Am I?"

"But the figure doesn't answer his question. He asks him one back. "Are you?"

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

_Fuck my life._

That's Zayn's every waking thought. Because he shouldn't have to deal with this, especially not from his teammates.

They travel on the bus to a game thirty minutes from his school. Harry is there of course. He never misses a game. Neither does he ever miss an opportunity to mess with Zayn. Therefore, as soon as he gets a chance, he makes his way to the back having a seat next to Zayn.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he teases.

And Zayn feels hot at the feeling. Maybe he should have sat up front where he could be closer to the driver and the coaches. That way they can hear everything he's saying.

"I don't have one. I'm not-"

"-Not a faggot?" he interrupts.

"No. I'm not."

But Zayn tenses when he feels Harry's hand on his thigh. Why now? Why must Harry do this now? Zayn closes his eyes feeling Harry's hand move, so that his fingertips freeze at the zipper of his pants.

"Please stop. "Zayn says and he tries to hide his shaky voice while he looks away from Harry. Seeing Harry's face right now would make him more shamed than he already is.

"I knew it." Harry says getting up as the bus comes to a halt in the parking lot of their destination. "If you weren't a homo, you wouldn't be this nervous whenever I touch you."

Zayn can't believe he's hearing those words, but he watches as Harry gets off and exits the bus with his three followers and the rest of the team. As for Zayn, he waits until he knows the coast is clear before he gets off. Because if anyone saw him, they'd know he's hiding a growing erection in his pants.

He must say this is the farthest Harry has ever gone when touching him. Which means out of two years and a few weeks Harry has only done enough things to make Zayn feel uncomfortable. Now he's making Zayn...

Feel things...

And it's horribly embarrassing.

It's horribly embarrassing that he has to find a bathroom to relieve himself.

It's horribly embarrassing that he's dropping his pants to his ankles in this disgusting public bathroom.

And sadly, it's horribly embarrassing that he's got to touch his own self like this when he doesn't even want to.

Despite it all though, no matter how frightening every thought he's having right now is, what's ten thousand times worse than all of those and more horribly embarrassing than anything is that it's not even his own hand he's thinking about giving him the kind of pleasure he's feeling right now.

It's Harry.

The captain of the soccer team.


	4. 4

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

Zayn's tears fill his eyes as he sits in the middle of the floor in his room.

"Zayn, there's nothing be ashamed of. It happens." The figure says.

"But I am one! I am! How did I not know?!" Zayn wipes snot from his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm everything he thinks I am. And everyone could see it but me."

"But everything will be alright. Don't let him make you feel horrible about yourself. Because you shouldn't."

"I don't know what else to do." he says. "Not even my mother knows."

"She will if you tell her."

He takes his glasses off and brings the collar of his shirt up to wipe his eyes. "I will never tell her! I'm not telling her! I'm not telling anyone! Got it?!"

"Okay, okay." the figure says. "Got it."

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

Then Zayn wakes up in the dark, with tears streaming down his face.

→→→→→

There's no soccer practice today and the last class of the day just ended, so Zayn wants to book it home so that Harry can't catch him. Unfortunately, he is Zayn Malik and this is Harry styles and Harry hunts him down like an animal. Hence, there is really no getting away from him.

Harry grabs him before he even gets halfway to the school doors and he pulls him into a supply closet full of things for the janitor.

When the light turns on, Zayn feels small.

"It's obvious you were running from me." Harry says. "Why are you running from me?" He's gentle when he runs his hand through Zayn's hair and he runs his fingertips along Zayn's jawline. "Cheekbones. They're beautiful."

_What do I do? Should I run? Should I stay? I don't want him touching me._

Zayn elects to stay because he knows he's not going to get out of this tiny closet without Harry stopping him anyway.

Harry towers over him and Zayn looks up at him scared as always. What does Harry want with him? Why does he do this to him? Zayn can't think of any clear answers.

Well he can't think clearly period, because Harry's breathing down his neck and pushing his hand up his shirt. And dammit... Zayn likes the way it feels. It's the sort of the way he imagined Harry's hand to feel when he was in the bathroom that day. Exactly like it. It makes him nervous. It makes his heart beat fast, but he doesn't want it to stop either.

Conflicted.

That is actually the way Zayn feels right now, because he doesn't want anyone to know about him. He doesn't want anyone to know he really is what people say about him. Now, he doesn't consider himself to be

_the f word,_

but he's not confused anymore. He knows who he likes and he knows what he likes. It's just unfortunate that it's Harry who's making him realize it, and it's unfortunate that he's making him realize it the way he's making him realize it.

Harry's in the middle of whispering the dirtiest of words he can imagine into Zayn's ear when his phone rings. The last thing he wants to do is answer it and stop making Zayn tremble as he's making him. But he knows it's one of his boys based on the ringtone, so he backs away giving an evil smile. "Maybe some other time time, yeah?"

Zayn says nothing.

Before he leaves, he glances down at Zayn's lower half.

"Whoa there. That's embarrassing." And he leaves the closet, laughing Zayn looks down to see a slightly visible wet spot.

Wait... He just came in his pants?

Did he really just do that?

_Did I really just do that?_

He did.

_I did._

Zayn Malik just did that.

Why did he do that?


	5. 5

It sucks for Zayn when he spends a whole week pacing his room, and can't stop calling himself disgusting and dirty for what happened that day in the closet. That stupid figure keeps appearing in his dreams telling him shit he doesn't care to hear anymore and when he's not sleeping, the voice is in the back of his head still saying the same things.

Zayn doesn't know what to do, because he's been hiding this for a while and he wants no one to know. No one. But at the same time, he can't get over the way Harry made him feel each time he put his hands on him and he secretly wants it to happen again. He wants it to. So he's left pondering what he should do.

His final decision is very appalling:

Zayn and Harry are the only two left in the locker room after practice a couple of days later. As soon as Zayn realizes everyone is gone, he finds himself stepping out of his shower and making his way to another where Harry is.

When he reaches it, he pulls back the curtain in a hurry and Harry quickly turns around when he hears the rings scrape against the metal curtain rod. The two stare at each other, not knowing what they should do, not even thinking to cover up themselves. Harry turns off the water.

"What are you doing here Zayn?"

Harry can't figure out why he's nervous, but he should be, because this is odd. Zayn's never been bold enough to do this before. He should actually be more nervous than this. But all that goes away when he sees Zayn getting on his knees in front of him.

Zayn doesn't know why he's doing it. Hell, he hasn't even kissed this boy yet and on top of that, this is the one who's called him all kinds of names since day one. But he wants to know what it feels like so badly. Because if he is...

the f word...

then this is what they do.

_Right?_

_I guess._

So his eyes are pleading at Harry to let him do it just this once. Harry's breath changes because for the first time, Zayn is touching him. He isn't initiating it and nor is this through material either. This is what he's been waiting on all along. He's got Zayn right where he wants him, so he nods once as to give Zayn permission.

Zayn's not totally sure what he's doing when he starts. He's got an idea, but he's pretty sure he's a bit sloppy. It's also very awkward when he makes direct contact with those green eyes that belong to the boy above him. Plus, he can't get the thought of his knees touching this nasty, wet and scummy floor out of his head. It's terrible. Just terrible.

He finds out very soon, that he doesn't like to be held in place while letting Harry thrust his hips, because new to his knowledge, he's got a horrible gag reflex. Harry probably thinks he's a joke right now and a stupid amateur. And yeah, that's what Zayn thinks of himself too. However, it doesn't stop Harry from leaving a little something for Zayn to taste.

Believe it or not, Zayn isn't too keen on the way it tastes or feels in his mouth because well, this isn't something he ever thought would touch his tongue. But he swallows it anyway because Harry won't stop gripping his hair or holding his head back if he doesn't. He's making that known.

Zayn feels lost when he's finished. Because he's fifteen, he's never tried this before and quite frankly he doesn't know what's next. So he stands up to leave and go back to his shower. Suddenly as he makes his way out, Harry stops him, pulls him back in and kisses him forcefully.

Zayn has never kissed a girl before. Yet alone a guy. So he's pretty sure he's fucking this up just as bad. But again, Harry, the one who thinks Zayn is

the f word

and a sissy, well he seems to have no problem with this, and that's what confuses Zayn. Even more confusing than that, he's already being pushed against the shower wall with the boy grinding his hips up against his causing him to let out a highly humiliating moan.

Zayn feels like a dummy.

When it comes to sex that is. Because he is clueless on what he should be doing right now. What is he supposed to be doing?

Well, that thought doesn't last long, since Harry reaches down demandingly making him put his legs around him. Zayn gasps too because Harry doesn't take long to insert two fingers into him triggering Zayn's body into a completely numb state. There's a little stinging feeling that makes him squint his eyes a little, but after Harry's fingers move inside of him a while and they start to turn and move all sorts of ways, it changes from major uncomfortableness to sheer pleasure. It's pretty close to perfect. And Zayn's cheeks turn red and his eyes close at the feeling.

Harry decides to be torturous and wait until Zayn gets used to the feeling, then he rips his fingers out and begins replacing it with something bigger.

Harry doesn't worry about giving Zayn the allotted time to adjust, so it's quite the shocker when he pushes his dick inside of Zayn making him more than uneasy.

_This is too much. Way too much._

It's straight up painful and he can't do anything but scream out because it's all he knows how to do.

"I can't do it." he whispers. "I can't." Then again, Harry is talking into his bare shoulder encouraging Zayn to let him keep going and those warm lips he feels against his skin, won't allow him to tell Harry no.

There's minutes that go by with Harry's constant pounding and Zayn finds himself in a worse situation than before. Harry's wedged his hand in between their bodies, stroking Zayn, and it immediately makes Zayn's whole body feel different. He's close. He can feel it and it's all because of Harry.

"Oh my gosh, stop." he gasps when he can his body loosening. Zayn is changing his mind. He doesn't want this anymore. "Harry. I'm done."

Foolish of Zayn, He's actually expecting Harry to listen. That's never Harry's intention. So he doesn't.

"Harry, what are you doing? I said I'm done. Stop." he tries again.

But he's still not listening. In reality all he's doing is speeding up the pace making Zayn dig his nails into his shoulders. Harry keeps pinning Zayn up against the tile wall, not caring that he is squirming or scratching trying to get way. This is not fun to him, but it is to Harry. And he's fully aware that now he's doing it without Zayn's consent. It's officially rape.

"Quit it!" Zayn's pulling at his hair since it's all he can actually grab onto. But it's still not working.

"HARRY!" He screams and he does that a few more times until he can no longer restrain himself and finally he's cumming onto Harry. Even then, he's still trying to get away, but Harry doesn't actually stop his thrusting until few seconds later, after he cums inside of Zayn.

"YOU ASS!!!" he yells and Harry let's him down feeling very smug that he's now done this to Zayn. "HOW COULD YOU?!"

"What the fuck Zayn?"

Zayn hates how calm he is. "YOU BASTARD!"

"What did I do?"

Bullshit... Harry knows exactly what he did.

Zayn's breath quickens and his eyes began to water. "You tricked me."

"I didn't trick you."

"YES YOU DID!"

"Calm down Zayn. No I didn't. You came in here and started this."

"But you let me. WHY DID YOU LET ME?!?!"

"Because you wanted it."

"Just because I wanted it, that doesn't mean I should have had it!"

"You say that like what we did was a bad thing."

Zayn stares at him in confusion.

Then suddenly, his face twists in anger. "But I'm a fifteen year old junior and you're a seventeen year old senior! You'll be eighteen in February! I... I can't believe I just had sex with a nearly grown man...in the school showers. This is... I can't believe I did that..."

"Come on Zayn." Harry says holding his hands out. "Really?"

But Zayn pushes past him going for his clothes. "Don't talk to me. I quit this stupid team."

Harry throws on his boxers, watching Zayn get dressed. "Why? That's unnecessary."

"Shut up." Zayn retorts. "Leave me alone." He puts on his shoes, grabs his duffle bag and heads for the door as quick as he can.

"Zayn!" Harry calls, but he's already gone.

Gone.

This is bad. Really bad. What has Zayn gotten himself into?


	6. 6

Zayn had come in and taken himself a hot shower trying to wash himself thoroughly and erase any trace that Harry had been on or inside of him. Even now, he still doesn't think he's clean enough, but he had figured that if he kept scrubbing long enough, he'd eventually scrub off his skin. Well, he doesn't want to walk around looking like a hairless cat, so he decides to leave well enough alone and have himself a good little nap.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

"Shh. it's okay Zayn. Shh." The figure rubs his back and kisses his shoulder and Zayn leans into the figure letting his tears leak on him.

"I don't know what to do. I'm not even a virgin anymore."

"I know."

"I lost it to him."

"I know."

"Wait... I lost my virginity to Harry fucking Styles?" Zayn grabs at his hair and growls loudly. "I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! And I hate myself equally for doing those disgusting things with him!"

"You don't mean that."

"Yes I do!"

"No you don't... You can't hate yourself equally as you do him."

"You're right. Because I hate myself more than I hate him!"

Zayn begins to sob harder and by now, he's hiccupping cries from lack of air. The figure says nothing.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••

This right here, sums up all the times he's ever thought about making his heart stop once and for all. This is exactly it. And right now this seems to be the small little spark that's gradually putting him back on that track again.


	7. 7

The most embarrassing thing for Zayn is coming to school the next morning and not knowing if Harry has told everyone or not. If he's spread the word about how Zayn takes it up the...

you know what...

or if he's pretending it didn't happen just like Zayn is trying to do. It sucks being clueless. But it's even worse when he finally begins to realize what's actually happening.

"How did I taste yesterday?" Zayn hears in his ear, when Harry sits down on the floor beside to him in the library early the very next morning. He wonders how Harry even knew he was there.

"Disgusting." Zayn mutters. But Harry laughs evilly, because he's a cocky little son of a bitch who begs to differ.

"I'm pretty sure I remember you swallowed."

Zayn wants to throw up, but it's too damn early to be puking and he hasn't even eaten anything to puke it up anyway.

"I came to tell you you can't quit the team."

"It's too late."

"But you haven't told the coach yet. So it isn't too late."

"Yes it is. And I'm telling him today."

That's what Zayn thinks. But he's startled when Harry grips the sides of his chin with one hand and turns Zayn to him. "Quit the team, and I'll tell everyone what you did. All I have to do is switch my name out with someone else's and I can make your life a living hell. Trust me. There's not a student here who won't believe me."

Zayn wonders if it's okay to scream right now. It's the Library. So maybe not. And unlucky for him, if he does, Harry will probably still tell everyone and make his life a living hell. He can't let that happen. He can't let any one know about him other than Harry.

Suddenly, there's a palm holding tight over his crotch. It's Harry's again and he's keeping it there as he looks intensely into Zayn's eyes still keeping a controlling hold on his chin. Zayn doesn't want to be touched like this by Harry. Especially when there's a chance that anyone can come around the corner and see this happening.

But the only thing about this is, no matter how much he hates when Harry does this to him, there is this feeling he's getting from being touched in this way and it makes him slightly jerk his hips into Harry's hand.

Harry chuckles taking both of his hands away from Zayn. "Well, well, well. Not so innocent anymore are we?"

Harry stands and Zayn covers himself with his backpack feeling shamed because... it's happening. His pants are tightening. And on a more horrible note, Harry's aware of what he did to him.

"You should definitely take care of that Zayn. Don't forget to think about me while you're doing it." He gives a Zayn a wink and disappears past the bookshelves.

Then as soon as he leaves, Zayn's off to the bathroom to do just what Harry expects him to do.

.

.

.

"You don't get it! I got myself off to Harry!" Zayn spat. "I came to Harry's fucking voice in my stupid head!"

"I'm sorry." This time, Zayn isn't dreaming. It's just the voice of the figure speaking to him. So he's really talking to himself.

"You're not sorry."

"Yes I am."

"Fuck you!"

He starts throwing things around, ripping the books off his bookshelf and he throws the covers on his bed all over the floor. Then for the hell of it, he dumps all the items in his backpack on is floor and he smashes the pictures frames that hang on his wall. It doesn't take long for him to tire himself out, and he lays out in his bed not saying anything.

"Are you all better now?"

"..."

"Zayn."

"..."

"Zayn."

"Go away."

"But Zayn."

"I SAID GO! GET OUT OF MY BRAIN! PLEASE! JUST GO!"

Zayn takes his pillow and puts it over his head as if it will block out the noise. He wonders if he can use this and successfully be able to suffocate himself with it. Probably not. So he doesn't even try.

For now, sleep is all Zayn wants.

Well that, and to forget.


	8. 8

There's another game.

And not just any game, but the last match for the fall season. It's close to the end of the game and Zayn still hasn't gotten in.

As usual.

He's sitting down with a couple of other bench warmers hoping the team wins. It's been a great match all the way through and it's quite an entertaining and enjoyable game. The last few seconds are left on the clock demanding someone to kick a goal to avoid extra time when Zayn sees Harry kicking the ball away from the apposing team and into his possession. He's running down the field keeping the ball away from opponents with a series of moves and great footwork.

As for Zayn, though he wants a team win, he still closes his eyes hoping that if Harry has anything to do with kicking the winning goal, then hopefully it gets blocked by the goalie.

_Please block it... Please._

Well...

It doesn't take long for him to be disappointed because when he opens his eyes, Harry is celebrating and their teammates are jumping on him and half of the crowd is cheering. Even the guys that were on the bench next to him have gotten up and ran out onto the field.

Yeah, it happened.

Harry kicked the game winning goal.

_Dammit!_

Suddenly, Zayn sees Harry appear out of the crowd looking at him, and he quickly points toward his dick. Zayn's breath hitches because he knows Harry's only making that gesture because he expects a "reward" for kicking the game winning goal that gave his team the win.

He holds his head down wondering if anyone else saw what Harry did. He feels like the whole world saw it. At this point, he hopes the world saw it. So someone can come to his rescue.

But no one saw it.

Of course not.

He's Zayn Malik.

No one ever notices Zayn Malik.


	9. 9

_I'm such fucking failure._ Zayn thinks He's holding back his tears as Harry is climbing off of him. How did he even end up here? At Harry's home of all places. Harry stands up from his bed and throws on his underwear. Then he tosses Zayn's onto him. "Get dressed. I'll take you home."

Zayn is confused. "H...home?"

"Yeah, I don't want you here anymore. I got what I wanted. Plus, my dad will be coming home soon anyway."

Zayn knows he is being used and he shouldn't expect anything more from he of all people. But this hurts. It really fucking hurts. He feels like shit because Harry just fucked him and now he wants to drop him off like he's some prostitute when he's not that at all.

And what makes this more humiliating is that he's let Harry climax inside of him twice.

TWICE!

That's pathetic. So pathetic.

Harry drops Zayn off. His knees are wobbling, his hands are shaking and his ass is in terrible pain. But he walks inside the house doing what he always does. He puts on a front and pretends like everything is okay. He pretends that he a isn't a fifteen year old boy who's been sexually active with the captain of his soccer team more in these past three months than he had been the first fifteen years of his life. He's acting as if some part of his life is still worth anything to him when in fact it is not.

His mother is standing in the kitchen at the stove stirring something in a pot. "You're home late. How was school?" She asks.

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

"Just okay."

"Well, you could have called you know. To tell me you'd be a little late."

Of course he could have called. But she should know by now that Zayn never uses that stupid cell phone which she constantly wastes $70 a month on. It just reminds him that his only contact is his mother, because he's irrelevant as hell and he has no fiends to talk to.

_Front Zayn. Front. You're making a sad face. Hurry before she notices._

So he smiles. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Now she's smiles. "Well, dinner will be ready soon. Go get cleaned up."

_Gosh, she's so fake, it's funny._

"I'm not hungry. So I'm just gonna go to bed."

"At six thirty?"

"Yeah? I'm tired." is all he says before he disappears around the corner. She doesn't need to know why he's tired. Nor does she need to know that he actually feels like shit right now. She just needs to leave him alone and continue to not care.

It's better that way. There's just too much effort in faking.

For both of them.

.

.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

The foggy figure sits in the grass across from Zayn. "Why didn't you say 'no' Zayn?"

"Oh now you fucking show up?!" He suddenly snaps. "Where were you when I needed you?!

"I was there Zayn. I'm always there. You never listen me."

"No you weren't! You left me there and he... he raped me!"

"You have to tell him 'no' Zayn. And then you have to fight him. Or else it's not rape anymore."

"I can't tell him 'no'! Don't you get it?! Everyone will know about me! And he'll make sure of it! You obviously don't know Harry."

"Of course I do."

"No you don't."

"Zayn, I've known him just as long as you have. Since freshman year when he started touching you. Remember? Ever since you thought you were "confused?"

Zayn begins to shake his head and cry again, not wanting to be reminded of all the horrors he felt when he struggled with his sexuality. "Stop it...Just stop it."

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

Upon saying that, Zayn wakes up to feeling more worthless than he did before he went to sleep.

_The Figure is right... Zayn thinks. Maybe I should have said no. But I didn't._

That means this is all his fault the reason this is happening. He can't blame anyone for it but himself and he thinks that makes him repulsive, revolting and offensive to even look at. He's so ugly and dirty. This guarantees he will never be liked in any other way other than to be used as Harry's little sex toy.

Not that he _wants_ to settle on being down on his knees in front of Harry every now and then. He hates it. And not that he is hyped on feeling Harry's lips and tongue explore his body either. No, he closes his eyes tightly when that's happening.

But does he really have a choice anymore? Can he afford to fuck up the tiny little bit of his personality or reputation that may or may not still be decent in the eyes of others?

_No. I'm sorry but I just can't._

_It's okay with me if he touches me one more time._

_It's okay with me if I sleep with him one more time._

_It's okay with me if I let him kiss me one more time._

_Yeah... it's okay._

That's Zayn hopelessly convincing himself. Because in reality, he isn't okay. Zayn's dying inside.

He's crumbling to pieces.

There's no help for that.

And what's worse than feeling that low with no way out, is that no one else can see it but him.


	10. 10

Early in the morning, Zayn walks in the Library toward his favorite spot. But as he rounds the corner, he sees Harry already sitting there. It makes him scared and he even turns to leave until he hears his voice. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. There's consequences for it."

Zayn pauses at the sound of those words.

_Consequences? What kind of consequences? Do I really want to know? No._

So he turns around and faces Harry. "I... I wasn't going anywhere..."

Harry chuckles darkly. "Then sit."

Zayn reluctantly sits down next to him, being sure to cover himself with his backpack. He remembers what happened last time he left himself exposed "Why are you so scared Zayn? I mean, really... I thought we slept together. More than once, right?"

Harry sounds somewhat caring and heartfelt, but Zayn knows he really isn't. "You know good and well that I didn't want it Harry." he grits at him with a scowl.

Those words...

Harry doesn't like them and they immediately anger him to the point where he raises his fist and punches Zayn in the mouth, causing those hazel eyes to fill with tears "You're a Liar. Don't you ever fucking lie to me like that again. Understand? If you didn't want it, you wouldn't have done it. And you did it. "

Zayn is beyond dumbfounded because he knew Harry would touch him inappropriately and trick him into doing things that he didn't want to do, but he did not know he'd hit him too. He begins to cry silently and Harry laughs.

"You're worthless, pathetic, and useless. Which explains why you have no friends and which explains why you will only forever be used for one or two things that make me happy. And I think you know what those are, don't you? Yeah, I'm sure you do."

Zayn looks down at his bag not wanting to think about the ways he makes Harry happy. Because they are the ways he hates making Harry happy. He jumps when Harry touches his now gradually swelling lip running his thumb across it.

"I've gotta go. If the guys ever see me with you, I'll never hear the end of it. But I'm sorry for hitting you. You know that right?"

_No, you're lying and I don't believe you._

"Yeah." Zayn nods avoiding Harry's eyes as he stands up.

"I'll see you some other time. Be good for me."

Zayn is still looking down, and doesn't catch his wink.


	11. 11

"I don't get it... This is the same guy that used to call me a sissy and a faggot..." Zayn mumbles to himself as he paces his room. "Why does he call me those names, yet still does all these things with me if those are the things I am?"

"I don't know."

"Ugh... You never know anything I ask you. Why the hell do I even ask you things?"

"I'm your conscious. I never know anything more than you."

Zayn shakes his head at the voice and sits on his bed. The picture frames on his wall are still smashed. Maybe he should take them down, before his mother comes in his room and wonders what happened. He needs to leave no evidence, nothing to put him in jeopardy of going to a psychiatric hospital.

_Please no. Not that._

So he gets up, takes the frames from his wall and he tosses the pictures and all in the trashcan.

There. All of it is gone.

And his mother doesn't have to know anything. She won't know anything.


	12. 12

Zayn's here again.

At Harry's house.

They've just walked into the door and Harry's dragging Zayn up to his room. Zayn is wondering where Harry's parents are. He never sees them. Never. And Harry is always telling Zayn he'd take him home before his dad gets here, but what about his mother? He doesn't know.

Harry brings him in, and sits him on the bed. Zayn's scared. What is Harry gonna make him do? His body is tensing as he watches Harry sit down next to him. And it doesn't stop trembling until Harry reaches in his backpack and pulls out a trigonometry book.

"I have to get this grade up by the end of the semester." He says. "And I need your help."

There's complete silence "What?"

"I need you to help me do this."

Zayn doesn't know what to do. In more ways than one. He can't believe Harry isn't touching him right now. He's asking for his help?

"I-I don't know m-much when it comes to trigonometry, b-but I can try." he stutters. He's nervous because he fears that if he gets this wrong, there's going to be serious consequences and he wants to avoid them. "Maybe, we'll see how the book can help us."

He glances down at the book and back up at Harry. His gaze is different. Not lustful as it always is. This isn't Zayn's glasses fooling him either, because they're nice and clean. This is really Harry's facial expression and Zayn feels somewhat better.

_Maybe you'll be okay Zayn. Maybe if you help him, he won't touch you. At least not today, anyway._

So he opens the book and looks at the instructions on how to complete a problem that Harry is pointing to. Suddenly all his nervousness goes away. And even though he a can feel Harry rubbing at his lower back in a sensual way, occasionally slipping his fingertips in the waistband of his underwear, he's not terrified anymore. He's calm.

_It's alright he thinks. Everything is going to be alright. For a change, everything is going to be alright._


	13. 13

Well, Zayn is always wrong isn't he? Nothing is ever alright. Not when it comes to Harry.

Zayn has been sitting up on Harry's bed and at this point Harry really has left Zayn to _do_ his homework. This isn't helping anymore. In fact, Harry never really had any intentions to work _with_ him. Hell, he's not even failing math. He's just lazy right now and he knows Zayn at this point is willing to do anything for him if it means the secret stays safe with him.

However, Harry is outside the door peeking around the doorframe at Zayn and he doesn't like how comfortable he looks. Zayn is supposed to be shaking right now. Trembling in his little black boots. And Harry hates how he's doing the opposite. So he comes inside, walks in front of Zayn and closes the book in his hand so that it makes a loud popping sound.

Zayn's eyes immediately widen up at him and Harry chuckles. This is sort of what Harry wants. But he wants a better reaction. Something different. So his hand grips the shirttail of Zayn's sweater and he starts to pull it up.

"Stop." Zayn whispers.

Harry's eyebrows arch inward. "What did you tell me?"

Zayn looks away scared to repeat himself. "N-nothing. I'm sorry."

"Damn right you are. Or you will be. Zayn is scared when Harry let's go and storms out of the room. What does he do? Should he run? Or hide? He wants to, but he's risking it. Harry's got a secret of his. A big one. One that by now Zayn thought would still be between he and his own self. But it's not and if he isn't careful it could end horribly.

Zayn looks up and sees Harry coming in holding something that makes his heart stop.

_A pair of handcuffs? Really?_

Harry smiles evilly because, finally Zayn is terrified. That's the reaction he's looking for. He doesn't want to do what he's about to do. But Zayn has to learn that he is the one who controls him. He is the one who tells him what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. So he lifts Zayn's sweater and T-shirt over his head. After a while Zayn's body starts to get chill bumps.

"Cold? I know. That's cause it's winter and it's cold outside. But we wouldn't want to get those messed up though would we?" Zayn shakes his head, still not knowing what's about to happen. "Exactly." Harry answers and he makes quick moments in undressing Zayn completely and laying him down on the bed so his head rests on the pillows. Afterward, Harry grabs his phone from his dresser and snaps a few photos. "That's for the future, if you decide to open your mouth." he says.

_Oh no... So now Harry's got blackmail pictures too._

He's got the blackmailing secret and the pictures to go with it. Now Zayn really can't screw up. He can't _not_ do what Harry says. Right? Because if he does, he's still got a whole other year and a half to deal with that hanging over his head. He does not want that.

He is startled from his thoughts to see Harry now sitting on his legs. He's still dressed though. "I won't use those cuffs if you sit still. But I want you to know that if I have to use them, I won't mind at all."

Zayn watches Harry shyly and jumps when he feels his cold palm wrap around his dick.

"Just relax Zayn. I'm going to make you feel as good as you always make me feel. Don't you want that?"

_No..._

"Okay."

Harry runs his thumb in circles across the tip and Zayn does let out involuntary moan.

INVOLUNTARY!

Why does it have to feel so good when right now he's wishing it felt like pain? Pain would be so much better because it's hard to enjoy pain. But this isn't pain. Why? He bets Harry knows it. He bets Harry already knows how this is making him feel inside. There's no way to hide it, because he can't stop his whimpering. Well if he can't stop that, maybe he should stop Harry's hand. So he tries it and he actually reaches to touch Harry, when Harry speaks up. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't do that. I've got these hand cuffs. You wouldn't want me to use them would you?"

"No."

"Then keep your hands away."

There's this glint of evilness in his eyes and Zayn draws away cowardly. Zayn begins to squirm. Harry just loves the sight of it. "Forgive me if I end up fucking you after this. But it's turning me on. And maybe it I was never honest about this, but seeing you in glasses has always turned me on too."

"Please don't." Zayn whispers.

Harry pauses. "What did you say?"

"I... I said please don't... I don't want to have sex."

"And why not?"

"B-because I d-don't feel good... today."

Harry laughs at him while resuming what he was doing. Just when Zayn thinks he'll ignore what he just said, he suddenly takes the other hand and grips Zayn's neck, just tight enough so he can still breathe. He's gritting his teeth as he speaks. "You're a piece of shit Zayn and you're also a horrible liar. But go ahead. Say what you want. Lie all you want. I don't care. But let me tell you something. I really don't give a damn about how good you feel. I get what I want, when I want it. All that matters is how I feel right now. And right now... I've got no control babe. None. Well, except for over you of course." And he laughs loudly.

By the time, Harry releases Zayn, he's crying. Tears are coming down his face and all that's going through his mind is how worthless he is.

He's worthless for laying here when he can just push Harry off of him and let him leak those pictures.

He's worthless when no matter how many times he never wants Harry to touch him, he can't stop himself from admitting that every bit of Harry touching him like this makes him feel good.

He's worthless when he's closing his eyes and grabbing onto Harry's arm holding him in place until he reaches his orgasm.

And he's worthless when he's purposely emptying his mind of all good and happy things and concentrating on nothing but the buckle to Harry's belt, how it's loosening and how the button to Harry's pants and his zipper is being undone.

Wow... This is what his life has come to. This is what Zayn, a 15 year old boy is going through right now when he should be at home doing his homework. But why Zayn? Why does Harry have to choose him of all people? Zayn doesn't know. He's lost, confused, out of it. Doesn't know what he should be thinking about because he's still calming down after he's just came all over his own chest.

So he just makes his mind up to lay there to take it. Just the way Harry expects him to. And then afterwards, when Harry drops him off at home, he's going to pretend like it never happened. Just like he always does.

Zayn's becoming a pro that. He's getting pretty good at making things appear to be what they aren't.

But he has no choice. He's got to keep himself hidden from the world. Because having the whole school know is worse than what Harry is doing to him.

Even if it is without his permission.

At least that's what he thinks.


	14. 14

"Zayn! What are you doing?! These are your mother's!" It's none other than his stupid conscience.

"So."

"So you can't. And four pills isn't enough Zayn. It's not gonna kill you. It'll probably only make you sick. And then what? A Psychiatric hospital?"

"No."

"Well that's what's gonna happen Zayn. That's what will happen to you because you won't die."

Zayn looks at the bottle in his hand. His conscience is right. He doesn't want to take that chance. He wants to die. But if that's not going to kill him, then what's the point?

There is none.

So he puts the bottle back on the shelf. "I hate Harry." he says. "I hate him so much."

He exits the bathroom and goes back down the hallway to his room, where he grabs a notepad and black pen. Maybe it's time he does this. Maybe it's time he begins to figure out how to kill himself. He needs a list. And a good, solid one.

Once he gets it, he's going to narrow it down. Then narrow it, and narrow it, and narrow it, until there's only one left standing. And as soon as he figures out which one it is, he's gonna do it.

Zayn's gonna kill himself...

and then leave everything he doesn't love for everyone to do what they want with it. Including his lifeless body. 


	15. 15

Three times now.

Three times Harry has shoved his dick inside of Zayn. Twice without his permission and Zayn counts the other one as only half his permission since he did kind of start it that day in the school showers.

Well this is strickly just talking about the times when Harry's gotten inside Zayn's ass.

There's other places Harry thinks he fits perfectly inside of Zayn. A place penetrated more than three times now. A place that requires Zayn to be, not standing upright, but on his knees. Well, that position is no stranger to anyone who even remotely knows anything about sex. And unfortunately, though it isn't, Zayn wishes this position was unfamiliar to him.

Harry is holding the bottom of Zayn's chin and Zayn looks up at him with glassy eyes. He's also creating saliva in his mouth and swallowing it over and over again, because he's trying to get the taste of Harry out of his mouth without spitting.

Ugh...

They're not even supposed to be here anyway. They're in the school locker rooms that the soccer team always uses before and after soccer practice, but they haven't had practice since the last game of the season. So Zayn is pissed(even though he wouldn't have eaten lunch anyway), that he was taken away from the cafeteria, just give Harry a blowjob.

"I have something for you to eat." Harry had told him. He wasn't kidding.

Zayn can just imagine what other people would say if they saw this. The things they would spread. The jokes they would come up with. It's scary to even think about and that's exactly why it's a secret.

"Keep this up and I'll eventually have to reward you. You're getting better and better." Harry's hand is still under his chin and Zayn is still looking at him. The taste still isn't out of his mouth either, but oh well. At this rate, it's never going to be.

"Look at you." Harry says. "Look at how beautiful you are. And those glasses make you look kinda geeky, yet perfect." He begins to fix his clothes arranging himself to be school appropriate. He keeps on talking. "But what makes it all so pointless, is that no matter how good you look, no one other than me is ever gonna like you Zayn. They won't even come close to liking you. Sad isn't it?"

Zayn looks downward accepting his reality. "I know." and Harry chuckles mostly because he knows that's not true. There's probably some girl(Or boy) out there that wants Zayn to be theirs. Harry just wants Zayn under his control and low self esteem seems to be working perfectly.

After he feels like he's presentable enough to be able to go back out with the other students, he grabs hold of Zayn's hair with his hand, not hard, just firmly enough to make him look upward at him. "As long as you remember that, you'll be alright and you won't get hurt. M'kay. Zayn doesn't say anything else on that. He just watches as Harry grabs his backpack and leaves out of the locker room.


	16. 16

Harry loves the way Zayn bites his lip and unnecessarily pushes his glasses up on his face. It's cute. And Zayn's not trying to do that on purpose at all. It's just that Trigonometry is not easy, so he's really focusing on this problem that he's just now come across. After all, he is teaching himself how to do this since he doesn't actually take this math class until next year.

Unknowingly though, Harry has spent the last few minutes debating whether or not he should stop sitting in the chair at his desk and staring at Zayn, or if he should get up and go over to him. Well, actually he should probably turn away and calm down before he fidgets out of his clothes. But he finds that so hard to do. Zayn keeps running his tongue over his bottom lip so seductively and tapping the pencil at his jaw and that, accompanied with his glasses...

_Fuck..._

So Harry just stands up and walks right on over to him.

Immediately, after feeling his presence, Zayn stiffens and looks up to see Harry standing directly in front of him. He'll never forget what happened last time he was here "helping" Harry with his homework and the possibility of that happening again weighs heavy on his mind to the point that he's actually preparing for it.

But it doesn't happen.

This time is different. Harry gently takes the book from Zayn and he lightly closes it, sitting it off to the side. Then he balances himself up on his fists which are pressed against the bed on each side of Zayn's thighs. He's leaning down looking at Zayn, not feeling any anger at all that Zayn's eyes don't seem terrified. They're a bit cautious, but that's it. And Harry doesn't ask for anything more for his entertainment as he usually does.

He leans his forehead against Zayn's forehead giving himself time to stop his shaky breath and for Zayn to catch his. This little pause is needed too, because he's sure Zayn's blood is rushing through his body at a million miles per minute. Because right now his blood is doing that and his arms and cheeks feel hot too.

It takes a whole lot of concentration on Harry's part to finally calm down and when he does, everything seems to stop. Even Zayn doesn't sound like he's breathing anymore.

Neither has ever had this happen before. So it leaves them lost and confused. Especially Zayn because, again, Harry's forehead is pressed up against his and wait... Harry's leaning in.

No more than a couple of seconds later, Harry makes the first move and smashes his lips onto Zayn's not forcefully, but just enough. There's no movement though. It's just their lips pressed together awkwardly and so uncomfortably.

This is weird. Zayn thinks. Something has to change. So he kisses back.

For the first time since the first time, Zayn kisses back and Harry likes the decision he made. As for Zayn, it's nice to have Harry finally using his mouth to explore a place on his body other that of Zayn using his on Harry. Finally something different for a change... And as crazy as it might sound, he actually likes Harry's tongue swirling inside and around his mouth. It feels good. Magical. And he gets this tingly feeling in his fingertips.

This goes on for about another minute, perfect snogging basically, and Harry finally stops to kiss Zayn's neck, jawline and ears in a repetitive, almost caring and loving way. Harry's eyes close as if he's savoring the moment, and he actually chuckles a bit when Zayn moans and strains his neck wanting more. So he gives himself permission to bite and suck at the skin for a short while.

And short actually means short too. He doesn't go beyond that. He stops when two red marks start to become visible and he gives Zayn's lips one last kiss. Afterwards, he stands up straight, puts the book back in Zayn's lap, and walks back to where he was as if what they'd just done was the way they had always done things. As if Harry was always gentle and not overly demanding and controlling with him.

"I'll take you home, when you're finished with that." Harry simply says.

Zayn opens the book back up with a nod, and now he can't concentrate anymore.

 _What just happened between us?_ he thinks. _Did he really come over here just to kiss me?_

Yep.

_And he's not going to touch me today?_

Nope.

_At all?_

No Zayn.

That's when a small smile appears on his face. It's really the first time he's smiled since... well it's the first time in a long time and he can't even remember the last time he smiled. He glances up to see Harry carving something into his wooden desk with some kind of broken metal piece obviously still thinking about those kisses too. He's not smiling like Zayn, but he's not angry either. He's calm. Which leads Zayn to believe that Harry was totally okay with it and that he knew what he was doing. So he has nothing to worry about.

He turns his attention away from Harry and then back to the book. He pinches himself to make sure it's real.

_Ouch!_

_Real._

_Definitely real._

_Whoa..._

And now Zayn can't wipe the huge grin off his face as he rubs the marks Harry left.


	17. 17

Zayn hates how the first thing at dinner his mom points out are the marks Harry left on him. Apparently he didn't do a very good job of hiding them from her. She'd seen them as he tried to slip past.

"Are you having sex Zayn?" She asks and her voice is stern having been upset from a couple minutes ago when Zayn had been trying to play dumb and dismiss it by not answering her questions.

"No mom." He lies.

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

She gives him a look as if she doesn't believe him. "No babies in my house Zayn. I mean it. I won't be taking care of them."

"There won't be any."

"Then you tell that little girl of yours to keep her hands off." But then she notices the twitch in his eye, the hesitation in his reply and the way his breathing changes. It's not a lot but, she knows.

" _Is it_ a girl, Zayn?"

He's not going to "come right out" and tell her the truth. But at the same time, he doesn't want to lie. He knows exactly how she'd feel if it weren't a girl. She won't except it. She'll probably disown him, simply for the fact that she's always known he was different, but she has never wanted to believe it.

"You know what? Don't tell me. I don't want to know. I'm just going to warn you not to bring him in my house or you'll be sorry. I don't want to see any marks on you from him and you better not get any STD's either. "

_STD's? Stereotypes... Zayn's hates them. Girls can carry STD's too..._

The rest of dinner is quiet, but the awkwardness doesn't compare to the guilt he now feels that his mother would never except the very thing he's hiding.

→→→→→

"Where'd you get that from?" Zayn hears when he's sitting in the cafeteria the next day.

He looks up to see Harry and his three friends.

It's the blue eyed one who is repeating himself. "I said where'd you get it? Who gave it to you?"

Zayn glances at Harry to see if he'll say anything. But he's standing back and watching them smugly.

"Whoever the girl is, I bet she's ugly." the blonde one says making both the blue eyed one and the bearded one laugh.

"How do we know it's a girl?" Harry cuts in more so from being offended that he was just called ugly and a girl.

Zayn perks up a little inside. Is Harry about to take up for him?

"What do you mean?" one of them asks.

There's a pause.

"I mean..." Now Harry is correcting himself to take the suspicion away from himself. "It might not be a girl because Zayn's a homo."


	18. 18

"A what?"

Zayn's heart stops and he looks at Harry wide eyed.

 _Did Harry just... Oh my fucking goodness... he did..._ Zayn's panicking and hyperventilating. That's totally not taking up for him "Are you kidding Harry?"

Zayn is waiting on him to answer, but Harry looks between the four of them.

"Harry. Are you kidding or what man?"

Suddenly Harry bursts in laughter making his three friends gradually join in with him.

"I can't believe I actually believed you, you fucking idiot." the bearded one says catching his breath. "Come on guys let's go. Harry we'll catch you later. Don't forget our after school plans."I won't."

The three boys head off leaving Harry alone with Zayn who is expecting him to say something about what just happened. But Harry doesn't. He just winks at Zayn and leaves, going in his own direction.


	19. 19

"Harry take this pen and write down the way you feel." Dr Kershman says. trying to hand Harry a pen.

"No."

Sadly, Dr Kershman always has this problem, when it comes time to getting Harry to admit the way he feels at the beginning of a new month.

"I feel the same shitty way." he says. "And I don't get it. Why do I have to always write down how I feel anyway? It's pointless."

"No, it's not pointless. Trust me." she tries. "I am your therapist. This will help you."

"It still won't change what happened."

"I know. But I need to see what's changing. I need to see if you're getting better."

Harry gets angry at hearing those words. "Better? Ha! How am I gonna get better?! The only way I can get better, is if it never happened!"

"Harry calm it down please." she warns, but Harry stands up.

"No! Don't tell me to calm it down! You didn't have to go through that!"

"I know I didn't but-"

"-Did your dad ever touch you?!"

"No."

"Then you don't know anything! You don't!"

He doesn't give her a chance to stop him before he's out the door of the office and running to his car. He's probably not fit to be driving either, but he does, and after 3 different occasions of needing to honk his horn, and ignoring a couple of stop signs, he's back home and up in his room.

He hasn't even come close to not being angry anymore. In fact he's pissed. He hates the thought of it all.

_Why would she do that?! Why would she make me relive those moments when I'm trying to forget them!_

Suddenly he can feel hands all over his body, touching and feeling places and he hates it. He becomes so frustrated that he undresses out of all his clothes, even his underwear, because he doesn't want anything that may even feel like a hand, touching him. He huddles in a corner with his back up against the wall, but he never cries. Not even a tear.

He just sits there staring at the floor. He sits there thinking about how he's spent the last 3 years of his life trying his best to make someone feel all the horrible things he ever felt or had to endure as a child. It took him forever to find the right someone.

But now that he's found it in Zayn, he won't stop until his mission is complete.


	20. 20

Harry likes Zayn.

He likes his glasses and his height, and his olive toned skin.

He actually feels something for the boy.

But he doesn't know how to act on it. He doesn't know how to be in a relationship with anyone because he's scarred from his childhood. All he knows is how he was treated. He doesn't know any better.

It's a sad feeling to not know any better.

For the past week, he'd decided to leave Zayn alone and not touch him in the ways he was used to touching him. He decided to be nice and maybe feeling up Zayn wasn't as much as a priority right now. Ha, well.... as much as thinking that way was somewhat preferable to him, he started to reason that this behavior should come to an end now.

ASAP.

Thanks to Dr. Kershman's visit yesterday, she reminded him of his sole purpose in targeting Zayn two years ago in the first place. He has business to take care of. Now isn't the time to get sappy.

Especially not for Zayn Malik, the boy he's chosen to scar forever.


	21. 21

Zayn isn't sure what's going on now, but today Harry has changed. Over the past week, since they kissed like that, Harry had been very nice to him. With the exception of him almost telling his three friends his secret of course.

Everyday except for one, he let Zayn walk home on his own without stopping him. And the one day, when he didn't let Zayn walk straight home, he took Zayn to his house and up to his room, where he kissed him over and over again, leaving a pretty red love bite on his collarbone. Not even Harry had known why he did it aside from the fact that yeah, he likes Zayn.

But as said before, today Harry had changed. He had snatched Zayn up when no one was watching and dragged him into a supply closet just as he was exiting his last class of the day. Zayn wasn't in the mood for this, but now he finds himself face to face with him.

Harry does not look happy.

"This isn't mutual." Harry says and right off the bat, that confuses Zayn.

"What?"

"I said this isn't mutual. You know damn well that you do what I say whenever I say it. There are no other options. You'd better remember that."

"W-what did I do?" Zayn stutters.

_Did I do something wrong?_

"Nothing yet. You should just remember that what I say always goes. Don't forget, I kept your little secret Zayn. I could have told them, you know..." He leans forward pressing his mouth against Zayn's cheek and he tucks his fingers down the front of Zayn's pants pulling the shorter boy toward him. "I could have told them how much you like it up your ass but no... I didn't."

Zayn then feels paranoid like there's cameras everywhere watching them, overhearing what he just said. "But then I'd have to tell them how tight and perfect you are whenever I first start fucking you, how beautiful your skin looks when you're completely naked for me and how your facial expression looks after I cum inside of you. I don't want them to know that. It's all for me."

By now, Harry is breathing so heavily against him, that Zayn's cheek feels wet. He hates that feeling.

"Zayn... I'm... I'm getting a feeling just from thinking about me fucking you. Zayn's eyes go wide. No. He's not about to do anything in this disgusting ass closet.

"Zayn..."

_Ignore him. Ignore him._

But it's pretty hard to ignore someone who's calling his name directly into his cheek.

"Yeah?"

"This is torture. Make me feel better. Touch me."

Well that wasn't what Zayn was expecting. "Huh? Harry takes his hands from Zayn's pants, reaches down to his own and undoes his belt and zipper. Then he pulls his stiffening member over his underwear so that he's exposed. "Touch me." he commands again in a strained voice.

But Zayn doesn't want to. He wants to go home and maybe work on his homework or something.

"But... Harry I... I don't want to."

Well, Harry's not talking into his cheek anymore. He's standing straight up and gripping tightly at the spot right at Zayn's shoulder and neck making Zayn whimper in pain. "What did I just tell you?!" He's whisper hollering.

"Uhm-"

-I said this isn't mutual! That's what I said! You don't get a fucking a choice! Now stop being a little bitch." He grabs Zayn's hand, forcing Zayn to touch him. "How does it feel?"

Harry remembers his dad asking him that the first time they ever touched each other There's no answer.

"How does it feel Zayn? I'm not going to ask you again."

"I... I don't know..." Zayn says. By now he's already crying. It's the first time Harry has made him cry in a week. "What am I supposed to say?"

Zayn actually doesn't want to hear this answer. Because he knows something horrible is coming.

"Tell me it feels good.

_Okay..._

"Tell me you want to do more than touch me."

_Oh no..._

"Tell me..."

_Please no. Don't say it._

"Tell me you want to taste me."

_He said it._

.

.

Harry actually makes Zayn walk home when he's finished with him. It's a horrible thing to do, but Harry doesn't care. He's showing Zayn what it was like. He's showing him the things he had gone through. Zayn needs to know no one is going to care for him like he might think. Not even the people that should.

Zayn had thrown up twice on the way home. He hates the feeling of needing to throw up, but he also hates the way Harry tastes. It never holds in his stomach either. Harry would be pissed at him if he knew he couldn't keep it down."

"You fooled yourself." the voice says to him later that night.

"No I didn't."

"Yes Zayn, you did. You fooled yourself. Harry isn't going to change. Don't you know he's using you?"

Yeah, Zayn knows that. "Shut up. I don't need you to remind me."

"He's going to keep touching you if you keep keeping it a secret. He's not going to stop anytime soon. What's wrong with you?"

"I said shut up!"

"But you need to listen to me. Let Harry tell everyone. You'll see it's not that bad."

"Okay, since when do you tell me what to do?!"

"For the last time, I'm your conscience Zayn. If you would stop ignoring me, you'd see that I'm always telling you what to do. That's my job."

"Well I am sick of you and your stupid job! That's why I ignore you! So go away!"

"I can't. I only go away when you go away."

That's when a lightbulb pops on in his head. "Well I've got something for you then."

"What?"

Zayn then gets up and reaches under his bed pulling out his notepad. He grabs a black pen from his dresser and he scans up and down the long list which started out with 36 different options, but is now at 31. "We're going to end this as soon as I figure out how to kill myself. Then you can shut up, Harry won't touch me, my mom will stop judging me and no one will ever have to know about me. It's a win, win."

"A win win? I'm sorry. I don't get it. You'll be dead Zayn. People will never see you alive again. You'll never get to see what could have happened during the rest of your life."

"Exactly. It's a win, win."

"Things could change Zayn. You never know... You don't know. Don't do it Zayn. I'm begging you. Don't take your life."

This time Zayn doesn't answer him. He just takes the black pen and scratches one of his options from the list.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has your perspective on Harry changed from what it was in the beginning yet?


	22. 22

It's Christmas break, which means there is no school. There hasn't been for about a week and a half. And today is Christmas. Zayn's mother didn't really think about Christmas this year. She didn't do anything or get anything. But Zayn doesn't care about it. It's not like he wanted anything anyway Today Harry is going to pick him up. Actually, it's nighttime and Zayn is waiting by the front door for him. His mother is not happy about it.

"I might not have done anything for today, but I still want you home."

Zayn feels bad, but at the same time, he doesn't care. She seems to be pretending as always.

"Who's the boy that's coming to pick you up?"

"He's... he's a friend. That's all." Zayn mumbles.

"And what's his name?"

Zayn hesitates. "Uhhh."

"Don't 'uh' me. What's his name?"

"His name is... it's Harry, but he's just a friend." Zayn assures before she has a chance to get angry.

"You know I don't believe you, don't you?"

Sadly, yes. Zayn knows she doesn't believe him. But there's a car horn outside that saves him from having to answer her or make her believe that Harry is in fact just a friend and that he hasn't been intimate with him.

"That's him. I guess I'll be back later on tonight." Zayn swings the door open quickly.

"Zayn Malik!" she calls after him, but he ignores her and leaves out of the house.

.

.

.

Harry has the radio on when Zayn gets in the car. It's on low, but Zayn can tell it's festive music for the holidays. However, the mere thought of joyful music playing in Harry's car when he has no clue what's going to happen to him, makes him feel nauseous. So he places a hand over his stomach.

"You okay?" Harry asks and Zayn nods. "Why are you shaking then?"

"Nothing." He hadn't realized he was shaking until then and it takes all he has to stop.

"Calm down. It's okay. It's a good day remember? It's Christmas night."

"O-oh yeah."

"Actually." Harry says lazily. "I shouldn't lie to you like this. You have a reason to be nervous. You're in my company and it's almost 9 o'clock at night. I'd be nervous too. You never know what I might do to you or where I'll take you." Zayn doesn't say anything to that but he does start shaking again.

They ride in silence until they reach Harry's mystery destination. Though it isn't a mystery destination at all. It is in fact Harry's house and Zayn is relieved that Harry has chosen to take him some place familiar.

When they get out of the car and go inside, Harry takes his hand, leads him upstairs to his room, then locks the door behind them. He commands Zayn to sit down on his bed in a loving manner and leans down in front of him.

"Look at me."

Zayn looks at him for second, but he can't keep his eyes trained on Harry's. They keep darting from Harry to items in the room. There's just something about him that makes Zayn feel like he's not supposed to look at him.

"Zaayynn..." he sings. "...Look at meee." His tone seems warning-like, as in if Zayn doesn't do it, he'll get hurt. So he forces himself to.

"Do you know what a living hell feels like?"

What kind of question is that?

"Are you going to answer me?"

"Huh?"

"Do you know what a living hell feels like?"

He shakes his head. "I... N-no."

He strokes Zayn's chin with his fingertips. "Well, don't worry. You will. Wanna know how you will?"

He shrugs unsurely and cautiously.

"Because I'm gonna put you through it. That's how. I'm gonna ruin your life. You're gonna hurt Zayn. You're gonna cry every night and you... are going to know what it's like. I'm going to break you. Harry then makes a quick movement to grab the collar of his shirt making Zayn shriek.

"This is going to be so much fun, I can taste it." And he buries his face into Zayn's neck smiling into it. "I've got lots of stuff for you to do. For us to do. And I won't stop until you..." And then he laughs so evilly and disgusting that Zayn gets this horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He's nauseous again. "I'm not going to stop until you're just like me. Until you feel everything I feel."

When Harry let's go, it's obvious that Zayn is trembling. Harry likes it though. He loves it. He never wants Zayn to stop trembling when ever he touches him.

"I'm pretty sure you're hungry seeing as I told you not to eat anything before I picked you up." Harry says taking off his own shoes. "So I made something to eat."

That catches Zayn off guard, but he stays quiet.

"Yes, I made something eat. Don't look at me like that. Now take off your coat and your shoes and meet me downstairs in the kitchen."

What?

How?

He's back. The caring Harry is suddenly back.

Really? What's going on with Harry?

Zayn wants to know that too.


	23. 23

Zayn wakes up in his own room the next day. He remembers the night before. Nothing happened. Nothing other than Harry's scary threats of course. But it was a bit surprising knowing Harry made something to eat. It was nothing expensive. Just a quick pasta dinner. But just the thought that it was done at all was something to wonder about. He met Harry's dad too.

He was nice.

Nothing like Harry.

But it was barely even five minutes after they met that Harry was getting nervous and dragging Zayn out of the kitchen, in a hurry to take him home. That was strange. Very strange.

Nevertheless, that was how Zayn's night went.

His mother is awake in the kitchen sipping coffee at the table when he gets there. It's her last vacation day before she's off to work again tomorrow.

"Sleep well?" she asks.

_No._

"I guess." Zayn mumbles.

"Good. At least someone did."

Zayn ignores her because he doesn't care about what she has to say, but she continues on. "And what I mean by that, is that I won't ever sleep well because I don't trust you hanging out with that Harry boy.

He knew this was coming. "Mom."

Gosh, he was hoping he didn't have to wake up to this. He wishes he had the guts to grab a kitchen knife and slit his own throat. Anything to avoid this conversation.

"Zayn I'm not kidding. I don't want you going any places with him."

Unfortunately, that's not going to happen. He, as well as his secret, is at Harry's mercy. Harry is the one who tells him what to do. No one else. Not even his mother.

"Did you hear me Zayn?"

"But he's my... He's my friend." Zayn wants to throw up just thinking about what he's just uttered. Friends wouldn't treat each other the way Harry treats him.

"Have you kissed him?"

Zayn pauses. "Uh... what?"

Zayn heard her. He's playing dumb and it's obvious.

"You heard me Zayn. Have you kissed him?"

"No-no. I haven't."

"Have you let him touch you in any inappropriate way? Have you touched him in any inappropriate way? Have you two had sex? Have you even thought about it; talked about it; dreamed about it?" She's spitting questions out now and all of them hurt like piercing stakes in his chest.

"No, I can't take it! Please stop it!" She thinks he's telling her to 'stop it' because it's unthinkable and uncomfortable on his part. But really, Zayn doesn't want to think about what's already happened. He'll break down right here in front of her if he has to keep remembering those times he's been with Harry.

"Good. And you better not start doing it." she says sipping her coffee.

"Okay."

"Now, I'll be lenient and let you go places with Harry since you say he's just your friend. But hanging out with him better not change your mind about not liking him or kissing him even the slightest. Or you and all your twisted up hormones are out."

"Out? W-what d-do you m-mean?" he stutters, but she doesn't. Her words are as clear as the sun shining outside.

"You're out of this house."


	24. 24

"But it's 11 o'clock Zayn. Where can you possibly be going?" his mother scowls.

"With Harry."

"Where with Harry?"

"I don't know." and that's actually the truth "I'm starting to think Harry is bad company if he's just going to keep picking you up at night to go places."

"It's going to be New Years. That's why. New Years starts at midnight."

"I know when it starts." she huffs."You're not going to a party to drink and do drugs are you?"

"No."

"Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise. She gives another annoying look like she wants to keep pressing on to get him to stay home, but then she just walks off heading down the hallway. "Do what you want. Whatever happens to you happens."

It's safe for Zayn to assume his own mother is now sick of him and doesn't care what happens to him.

It's not long until Harry's car is pulling up and Zayn walks out of the house, getting in the car. Immediately, Harry holds out something to Zayn. Actually it's two somethings. "Here. It's dark, but the streetlights are shining enough for him to see what it is. He chokes on his own air as he takes it from him.

"We're going to need those soon."

Okay, so now Zayn knows what Harry wants him for on this night. But where are they going?

"We're going to the fireworks show."

"I...I asked that out... out loud?" he stumbles.

"Yes, you did. "Oh."

Again, like last time, they ride in silence not saying anything.

When they arrive, Zayn sees that the fireworks show is in a huge open field. There are already many cars parked on the grass in a neat and orderly fashion. He is expecting Harry to park near all of them, but he doesn't. Instead, he parks way away from everyone so they are somewhat hidden up against the trees. In fact, they're so unnoticeable, it's scary.

Instead of getting out of the car, Harry climbs between the two front seats to the back seat.

"Come on Zayn. You too."

"Uh... Okay." and he climbs back there with Harry. When he finally sits down, he can pay enough attention to see other people sitting out on their cars in their coats and hats and for those not sitting on their cars, they are sitting in it with the drop top down or with their heads peeking through the sun roofs. They are all there for the same thing but there are only two people out of place. It's Zayn and Harry.

Just as Zayn's mind begins to wander in that direction, he feels a pair of lips at his chin and they trail down his neck.

"You should really take this coat off." Harry says cutting through the silence. "It's just going to be in the way."

Zayn listens and with Harry's help, it's off in a few seconds and thrown in the front seat.

"You still have those condoms?"

"...Yeah. "Sit them in the cupholder for now and we'll use them in a minute." So he does. But before the packets barely have a chance to leave Zayn's fingertips, Harry is already pouncing on him kissing him full on his lips. Zayn's lips tighten from the initial shock until Harry grips his waist telling Zayn to kiss him back. He follows as ordered.

Exchanging saliva with Harry is something Zayn never wanted to do. But he had to get used to it and he had to learn to pretend to love anything Harry loved regardless of how it made him feel. Harry takes his hands and goes for Zayn's shirttail lifting it up. Then he detaches his lips from Zayn's.

"Arms up and lets take this off babe."

Zayn's brows crinkle.

_Babe?_

"Zayn, lift your arms." He raises them as high as he can without hitting the ceiling and Harry takes his undershirt and top shirt off all at once tossing them to the front passenger seat. Instantly, the chilly air makes him hiss.

"Cold?"

"Yeah."

"Don't worry. I'll warm you up pretty good in a minute." Harry takes his own shirts off tossing them in the front driver seat and afterwards, wastes no time going for the zipper of Zayn's jeans. Zayn peeks around to see if anyone is watching, but he's so self conscious now, he's forgotten they've parked way away from anyone else. But it's a sufficient assurance for him that it's dark out and all he sees is a countdown clock that was once at eight minutes, but is now at five.

He lifts his lower half at Harry's command and within 20 seconds he's fully naked laying back on the seat with his shoes and everything in the passenger seat. He just closes his eyes waiting for Harry to undress himself.

As for Harry, he's paid attention enough times to know how Zayn reacts. He knows Zayn doesn't like to be with him this way. The thing is, he doesn't care. He didn't want to be with his father this way either, but he didn't get a choice. So neither does Zayn. But one thing he cannot stand is that this will be the fourth time he's been with Zayn and he's yet to hear his name being called when he's thrusting inside of him. Well, aside from when he raped Zayn in the school locker room, but hollering in panic is not what he means. He wonders how his voice would sound when he's straining out those two syllables, when he's all hot and bothered and gasping for air as he begs Harry to stop. Or when he's so close to an orgasm, that he has no choice but to moan out the name of the one causing it It's almost too much for him and he wants to force Zayn to call out his name that way. But no. He still likes Zayn. Zayn is his princess. He wants Zayn to do that when _he's_ ready.

Zayn's eyes are closed when he feels Harry's mouth. But it's _the way_ he feels it that makes him reopen his eyes. Harry's literally sucking at the skin on Zayn's tummy and it feels good. It's new for a 15 year old boy and it's hard to get used to. But it's sending butterflies all through him and he smiles warmly looking down at the older boy. This goes on nearly a minute and Harry's mouth never leaves Zayn's body. Instead, he allows his tongue loose, letting it run over his bellybutton and down past the impression of which was created by the waistband of Zayn's underwear. It's dipping dangerously close to his dick.

"You are my little princess Zayn. You are."

 _No stop._ Zayn thinks. _I'm not a girl._

Of course Harry still talks anyway. "A prince always takes care of his princess."

 _I'm not a fucking princess!_ Zayn mentally argues, because he's not. He's just a 15 year old boy. And that's that.

"I'm going to take care of you."

Zayn is looking at the ceiling when he feels this wonderful, wet feeling running up and down the shaft of his dick. It isn't hard to recognize it's Harry's tongue, though it is extremely hard to believe. Harry's mouth has never gone anywhere close to this part of his body before. It's Zayn's first time having this done to him. Maybe now, he can understand how Harry feels when Zayn's giving him the same treatment.

"This will be fun. Won't it princess?"

Zayn grunts, already knowing he'll hate that nickname as time goes on. But what can he do about it? Harry will just get upset if he opposes it in any way. So he'll just keep his mouth shut.

And then too, in all fairness, this does feel so good right now. So he'll definitely be Harry's princess, if it means this won't be stopping anytime soon. At least for tonight...


	25. 25

The fireworks blast the moment Harry takes Zayn into his mouth. And though unexpected, it isn't the whistling or popping sounds or cheering that make Zayn jump. It's the reality.

The reality that just four and a half months ago, he was unsure of what he liked or whom he liked. And now here he is getting a clear picture of what he likes and boy, does it feel so good. The only thing about it is that his mother would never go for this. She'd probably be having a heart attack now if she knew what was happening in the back of Harry's car. Thinking of that changes everything.

It makes Zayn feel guilty.

A couple more minutes go by as the fireworks continue to be set off, and Zayn can't take it anymore when he hears Harry hum "Mmm." over and over as if he tastes good. There's a vibration sensation it's creating throughout his hardening member and as much as he doesn't want it to happen, it makes his body go weak and he begins to whimper.

Hearing those sounds, makes Harry's lower region so excited. It's still not his name yet, but he never thought a 15 year could sound so perfect. So innocent. So sexy. So... vulnerable.

Zayn really is his Princess. Zayn is his little play toy. And by the time he finishes doing what he wants to do to him in this back seat tonight, Zayn is going to know who he belongs to.


	26. 26

Unlike the day after Christmas, when Zayn woke up in his own room, he wakes up in the back of Harry's car on New Years. He's still completely naked, but he's underneath a blanket that Harry apparently brought for this purpose and Harry sleeps on top of him with his head buried in his neck. At this point. Zayn is just realizing 3 new things.

1) He knew they had sex last night. But in the back of Harry's car? Zayn never thought he'd do that. He never thought he'd go this low. But apparently he has. And he can think of so many different names he'd be given by now if people knew.

Something else he's realizing is 2) He feels like utter shit. Because again, this was done in the backseat of Harry's car. He feels so disgusting and degraded that he doesn't even want to pay attention to anything from here on out. He doesn't want to accept the fact that Harry's naked body is against his, or that there are two used condoms on the floor that have been tied up to keep their contents from coming out. He's blocking that out.

However, it becomes increasingly harder to block it out when he turns around to view his surroundings and sees two large hand prints on the window. Both belonging to Harry from when he was balancing himself to get a better angle.

"Harry..." Zayn whines and he's about to cry. Because lastly, he's realizing 3) This is all too much now. Just too much. "Harry."

"Hmm?" he says shuffling, but he doesn't open his eyes.

"Get up."

"Why?"

"Harry... Please..."

Harry huffs, but sits up sleepily so that the blanket falls off exposing them. "Fuck... what time is it?"

"I don't know."

Harry reaches up and retrieves his phone from the front driver seat and frowns when he turns on the screen. "It's 10:30."

That makes Zayn's heart race, but he speaks calmly. "Oh."

"Should I uhm, take you back to my place so you can have a shower? I'll let you wear some of my clothes home if you want. And I could make us breakfast-"

"-No." Zayn answers immediately and his voice stays firm. "I just... I just want to put back on my clothes. And I want to go home and I'll get cleaned up and eat when I get there."

Harry stares at him for a moment hating the way Zayn avoids eye contact with him. Then he completely moves out of the way with a sigh, allowing Zayn to move from underneath him. "Okay. Go ahead."

Zayn forces himself to pretend that Harry's hand isn't on his waist when he reaches to the front to grab his clothes or that those green orbs aren't watching him as he gets dressed. He wants to scream out loud because though he's not exactly being physically touched at the moment, he still feels like he's being violated. No one can understand how much of an unpleasant feeling it is for him.

He feels alone for that very reason.

After he changes his clothes and sits in the front seat again, he checks his phone to see that there is no missed call from his mother. All night, he's been gone away from home, and not one text message or voicemail either. It's proof that she meant what she said earlier when she said she doesn't care and it takes a certain air out of his lungs that he's sure he'll never be able to recover again. He should really stop expecting anything different from her because it just ends in more disappointment. Disappointment that's showing him why the list he's got hidden underneath his bed is looking more and more like the right way to go as time passes.

Harry finishes changing in a jiffy, and he's climbing in the driver seat starting up the engine. Finally, now that Zayn knows he's about to get away from Harry, he can pay attention to other things and settle down a bit. As he looks out the window, there's remains scattered in the grass that came from all the fireworks last night, but Zayn dismisses it. He knows he missed the new years celebration in the sky for unwanted hickies from Harry but no, he doesn't care.

He's made up his mind now.

His time is getting close.

It won't be long before no one in this world is going to hurt from his absence. It won't be long before everyone is going to go about their lives as if Zayn Malik never existed on earth. He can't wait for that Sure, he'll be dead and he'll be lifeless then. But he will finally be free. And that, though it may not sound as such, is what Zayn craves more than anything.


	27. 27

...•••...•••...•••...•••...•••

Zayn is laying out in some kind of grass field when he looks up and sees the white figure coming his way. He growls to himself because it's been a while since this figure has shown up he thought he was done seeing it.

"Zayn. What are you doing?"

"Lying down."

"But you're in the middle of nowhere in a field."

"So?"

"I just find it odd that this is what you are dreaming about."

"Why is it odd?"

"Look at the sun Zayn."

"What about it?"

"It's shining so bright and pretty. Look at those trees in the distance. They're green, and they aren't dead. Look at what's surrounding you. Those little purple weeds that look like flowers. Your dream is beautiful Zayn."

Zayn frowns. "So. What's wrong with that?"

The figure speaks in a low tone. "Is this what you're secretly wishing for? Is this really what you want your life to be like?"

Zayn goes to open his mouth, but a bell rings loudly in his ears.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••..

It's the school bell.

That's what's awaken him. And it's time for his next class.


	28. 28

Harry sits down across from his three buddies with a sigh. The bearded one, the blue eyed one, and the blonde haired one all look at him.

"What are you guys staring for?" Harry's asks. "And why are you all smiling like dumb asses?"

"There's a new girl." the blue eyed one says.

"New? But it's after Christmas which means it's halfway into the school year."

"Doesn't matter. She and her family just moved here. And she looks so good it's a sin."

Harry sighs. "I don't care."

"Well that's new." the bearded one laughs. "Not really. Shouldn't you have a girlfriend by now? I've never seen you with one in four years of our friendship."

"That's because he's always just talking about them." The blonde one says. "He's always talking about fucking them but he never does."

"True that." the blue eyed one agrees.

"Look." Harry says sternly. Because he feels like he's being ganged up on by his own friends. "You don't know what I've done."

"No, but we know _who_ you haven't done and it's the new girl."

"Okay who is this new girl then? What's her name?" he asks, though the mere thought of a girl is turning him off making him want to run away.

"We'll point her out for you. But if you really want to know her name, you have to meet her yourself."

"I'll meet her later."

"Too late." And before Harry can even argue, he's already waving over some girl with dark brown hair and she's wearing a cute little sweater.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone yet managed to figure out who is A: the bearded one B: the blue eyed one. and C: the blonde haired one?
> 
> Also the reason I'm not really using anyone's name in this story other than Zayn and Harry's is because they are what's important here. And it keeps the focus on them.


	29. 29

"It's time to write down how you feel now Harry." Dr Kershman says. "Do you promise not to run out on me this time?"

He looks as if he's thinking about running again, but then he nods. "I promise."

She hands him the pen and the paper then sits back and waits for him to finish writing. It doesn't take long before he's handing the paper and pen back.

She reads what it says. "Good? Is that it. Could you care to elaborate?"

"No. Can we move on?"

Even though she doesn't want to, she detects the seriousness in his voice, and she determines it's best she does so that he keeps his promise. "How's your foster dad? He hasn't been here in a while."

"He's fine."

"The Police Department hasn't been taking too much of his time away from you has it?"

Harry growls. "Dr Kershman, I really don't want to be here."

"I understand that Harry but-"

"-I'm not answering another question. I'm just going to sit here and look at you like you're an idiot."

Well that's that. Harry's walls are up again. And that's how she knows the word he wrote on that paper is a lie Harry isn't good.

.

.

.

It's been 6 years since Harry's father was thrown in jail. And on that very day was when he was taken away from him and put in foster care.

He's been through four different Therapists, Dr Kershman being the fourth one, simply because he's never gotten better and all of them eventually get tired of him not wanting to talk about what he's there for. It's not something Harry can really help though. He doesn't know how to start when it comes to that. He doesn't know how to tell someone how horrible he feels when he remembers those nights or days when his father would touch him. He hates it. He absolutely hates it.

The problem is, Harry shuts his feelings away from others when it comes to that. He just wants to pretend that nothing is wrong like he's always done. And he wants no one questioning him about something he's trying to hide. Not even his therapists.

"Nosy bitch." he mumbles to himself as he gets in his car for home.


	30. 30

Zayn hasn't been sleeping well at night. Ever since he woke up in Harry's car on New Years, that night has played in the back of his mind making him cringe. He's been falling asleep in school for the past few days since that seems to be the only place he can rest and he's been trying his best to avoid Harry. Avoid? That's comical. Because this is Harry Styles. He isn't going to avoid him. Not successfully.

Harry sees him on the side of the road walking home from school. When Harry's car stops, Zayn is basically forced into it. He wonders if anyone saw it and will report Harry for kidnapping. That would be nice. But again, for the one millionth time, people never see Harry Styles. Either that, or they're just pretending not to see because he is Zayn Malik.

As the car pulls off, Zayn notices that Harry isn't too happy today. In fact he looks rather pissed. Zayn guesses it's because he doesn't like that he's been avoiding him and all he can think of is the worst consequences to be imagined. He's learned to assume the worse with Harry. That way he's never disappointed.

However, when they reach Harry's house and go inside, "the worst" is far from what's happening. Instead, he's being lead to the living room and over to the couch where Harry sits down and pulls him on top of him. Every muscle in Zayn's body tenses, but he keeps quiet and he just waits.

He waits for Harry to say something.

He waits for Harry to make him do something.

He waits for Harry to threaten him.

Something. Because Harry doesn't go without doing or saying anything.

But nothing happens. It's just silence and steady breathing. And he feels obligated to ask. "Harry?"

"What?"

"Do you... Did you want me to do something for you? Am I here for a reason?"

But to his surprise, Harry shakes his head and rubs Zayn's back soothingly. "No. I just really wanted you here with me today."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Harry confusing or what?


	31. 31

_"This isn't mutual."_

Harry had told Zayn that the day he trapped him in the janitor's closet after school. That's what he said. And no one forced him to say those words either.

But now that keeps running through his mind constantly, each time he's not doing anything. And he knows the reason why it's suddenly been on repeat.

It was yesterday's events.

Zayn had shyly admitted he was tired and Harry just kissed his drooping eyelids telling him, "Just go to sleep then." And Zayn did. He had fallen asleep on him with his head between the little area of his stomach and chest and he was snoring so soundly. Harry stayed up, running his fingers through Zayn's hair, clearly trying to get rid of his frustration from his visit with his therapist the day before. That was what he wanted Zayn for. And Zayn fulfilled his want.

But thinking of it today, almost makes him wish he had picked someone else. It makes him think twice about going through with this mission and choosing Zayn because well... Zayn's a good boy. He is still his princess, but... Maybe Zayn can be a different kind of princess. Maybe Zayn can just be there when he's down or wants to snog...

_No. You're not staying true to your own words Harry. You're drifting from the goal._

He needs a reminder.

"It's not mutual. It's not mutual. It's not mutual." he repeats to himself as he grabs his backpack off the back seat so he can go into the school. "You are way above Zayn. You aren't the same. Not even close."

Believe it or not, those words calm him to the point where he's able to wear a halfway satisfied smile. Maybe now he can have a great day.

Immediately, when he enters the school doors, he sees that, no, today won't be a great day. The brown haired girl is there again standing with his three friends.

_What does she want for fuck's sake..._

"Hi Harry." she waves.

"What are you doing here?" He doesn't care if that question came off a bit rude.

"Your friends invited me. I honestly don't know why either." she chuckles.

"We invited you because Harry likes you." the blue eyed one speaks up.

 _What???_ Harry doesn't remember telling them that. "Huh?"

"Oh." she blushes. "That's cute."

"But I-"

"-would love to walk you to class. He's been talking about you since he met you." The bearded one cuts in and Harry tightens his lips at him because that's certainly not true. After he met her, he forgot all about her up utill now.

"Okay." She drags out the vowels.

She's adorable, Harry must say. But she's... a girl. He'll still be nice though.

"So. I'll walk you now then?"

"Uh, sure." she smiles warmly. "That's fine."

And they scurry off to her first morning class.


	32. 32

Harry spends all day walking her to classes and he even eats lunch with her. And by the time school ends, he's fed up with it all. He just wants to leave school and go home because he's miserable as hell. He thinks his friends are assholes. He understands that they did this to set him up, but he doesn't wan't this. His friends don't know he doesn't want this, but nevertheless, he doesn't want it, and he makes a break for the school doors after his last class.

"Harry!" He longs to keep walking and ignore this voice. But it's hard to when the person is now tapping on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. "Harry."

He turns around to see it's her. "Hi." he says painfully.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Uh... okay" They maneuver out of the crowd and off to the side near the lockers. "I really want to thank you for walking me to all my classes today." she says. "That was very kind. And I know you're cool and popular and captain of the soccer team, so you're probably used to getting any girl you want but I'm sorry I-"

"-I don't like you." he blurts out.

"What?"

"I... I don't like you. My friends kind of.... lied."

He studies her face and finds she doesn't seem angry at all. Not even a little. Just the opposite, she's more shocked than anything.

"Oh wow, I'm so glad you said that." She sounds relieved. "I wasn't sure how to let you down easy."

"W-what?" Harry stutters. "Y-you don't like me either?"

She shakes her head. "I only agreed to let you walk me to my classes so I wouldn't embarrass you in front of your friends. I don't have time for a boyfriend. I am a senior this year and I'm focused on staying on track for college. That's all I'm worried about."

Harry just smiles. His reason is totally different. Plus, he's not really prepared for college. His foster dad doesn't want to force him to go either, though he wishes for Harry to become a police officer just like him. "Th-that's good then. So everything is okay between us?"

"Of course. And we'll still be friends, right?"

"Definitely."

She smiles and pats his shoulder once. "Well, I'll... I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Okay."

And they go their separate ways.


	33. 33

"I can't believe you rejected that girl." The blue eyed one says.

"Oh well."

"Oh well? Seriously? Dude, you could've had her wrapped around your finger." The bearded one says.

"Yeah, but you chose not to. Are you a virgin or what?" the blonde haired one asks. "Because you're acting like you are."

"No. I'm not a fucking virgin. Stop asking that." Harry says. "As a matter of fact, screw all three of you for lying to her anyway. You're lucky I'm not bashing your fucking faces in for setting me up yesterday. What kind of friends are you?"

For some reason, all at once, they appear to immediately regret what they've done. But really, they have just remembered how losing Harry as a friend means they lose out on the popularity they've worked hard to gain by following up behind him.

"We're sorry bro."

"Yeah, we're sorry."

"We won't do it again. Promise."

Harry frowns and lazily pushes around the food on his lunch tray. "It's alright. I forgive you guys."

But honestly, he only forgave them because he doesn't have time to ponder about his "friends" dumb decisions. He's got something better to think about. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow is Zayn's birthday.


	34. 34

Today is Zayn's birthday. It's his Sweet Sixteen. That's supposed to be a big deal just as it always has been for everyone else. But instead of being at home eating cake and opening gifts, he's at Harry's house, because 1) his mother didn't plan a birthday party or get him anything in the first place and 2) Harry told him to be here.

Zayn is laying in Harry's bed with his shoes, trousers and shirt off(which of course was Harry's demand) when Harry comes in throwing a bag of Haribo gummy bears on the bed next to him. "Happy Birthday."

Zayn is quiet as he looks down at the snack in confusion.

"Zayn? Where are your manners? A princess always uses her manners."

"Oh, uh, um. Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

_Seriously?..._

The sudden insincere change in politeness makes Zayn mentally scoff in disgust.

"Well, don't just look at me. Open them up and eat."

Zayn, who is now cautious, sits up grabbing the bag and he tears it open lightly. He resembles a little child as he takes out an orange one and eats it. It tastes good. He feels satisfied enough with it. What a nice, though not very thoughtful, birthday present.

"Today's a special day, not just because you turned sixteen Zayn." Harry says shooting him a smile.

Now Zayn is more attentive than before.

"Know what I mean by that?"

He shakes his head answering quietly. "No."

Harry chuckles. "It's a special day because today is the day I mark you."

As if Zayn's not already confused enough, he says something like that...

"Eat."

Zayn takes out another orange one, watching Harry walk over to his dresser. He reaches in the top drawer digging around constantly until he pulls out what he's looking for. What he has in his hand makes Zayn's heart stop.

_Handcuffs? Oh no. They're back._

"Eat." Harry commands again when he sees Zayn has stopped. So he eats the orange one he took out. He watches Harry carefully and sees him take something else from the drawer. It's shiny and it's visible. So there is no mistaking what it is.

A razorblade.

Zayn starts to panic and his eyes glue to Harry.

"Eat Zayn." It's a warning voice.

Shakily, he finishes chewing the one he was eating and then takes one from the package. It's a yellow one.

Harry walks over to him holding the two items and then grabs one of Zayn's hands. "Alright babe. This is just to keep you from running away."

_Running away?_

He closes one side of the hand cuffs around one of Zayn's wrists and the other around the bed post. It's so uncomfortable "You look really pretty when you're cuffed to the bed in nothing but your underwear. I mean, you always look pretty, but this... wow."

He chuckles and begins polishing the razorblade with his shirt. When he's finished, he grips Zayn's thigh and looks him in his eyes. "I am about to mark you now. But I'm warning you. If you scream, it's not going to end well, okay?"

"S-scream? Why would I-"

"-Do you understand?"

_No._

"Yeah."

"Good. Now eat."

Zayn has to awkwardly reach in the bag and take out another one. It's a clear one and he puts it in his mouth. His eyes are now trained on Harry's hand, because he's bringing the razorblade to Zayn's thigh. He has an idea of what's about to happen.

"No please. Don't." Zayn says. And before he knows it, there's a lump in his throat and a film of wetness is beginning to cover over his eyes.

"Zayn. Don't fucking tell me what to do. Never tell me what to do. Eat those gummy bears and shut your mouth."

Zayn is shocked at those words, but at the same time, he isn't shocked. Nothing is new anymore when it comes to Harry Styles. He reaches in the bag, only to find a green one this time and he nibbles on it weakly cringing as Harry puts the blade to his skin. The moment it pierces him, he cries out, "Ouch! No Harry! Please don't!" He's careful not to move because any movement could result in his getting cut much worse.

"Please! Harry!" This time, the tears come down and Harry has no problem ignoring them. He just keeps running the blade across his body. Zayn's eyes are blurry from tears, but he can see the blood that's coming out of himself. Why is this happening?

"Eat Zayn. Eat and don't stop again. I bought those for your birthday. Eating the gummy bears I've bought you and letting me mark you is important if you don't want to suffer any consequences afterward."

_Consequences?! Isn't this enough?!_

Not for Harry. So therefore Zayn eats the rest of the green one and takes out four gummy bears from the bag. An orange one, another orange one, a green one and a clear one.

"It hurts!" he cries not daring to try to remove Harry's hand. "It hurts so bad Harry!"

"I know, I know." He's brutally calm. "I've just finished two letters. Three more to go.

"Please. I'm begging you!" Now Zayn is just throwing one of the orange ones in his mouth and chewing roughly. He's not focused on chewing, but rather the pain Harry is inflicting on him.

He tries to lay back on the bed, but his cuffed wrist makes it impossible to lay back all the way. He growls angrily. Suddenly, without warning, the blade goes deeper in his flesh than before and he let's out a piercing scream. It's full of pain and hurt and it's a sign that something horrid is happening to him. "You screamed Zayn." Harry says in a singing tone. But he doesn't falter in roughly dragging the blade across his skin.

However, Zayn doesn't stop. He continues to scream violently and he is unsucessfully trying to get away by yanking the wrist that's confining him to the bedpost. "STOP! STOP IT HARRY!" This time he doesn't care what happens and he begins to kick his legs making Harry stop doing what he's doing.

"Zayn, what the fuck?! I was almost done with the Y!" He forces Zayn's leg back down and harshly slices the last line of the Y into his thigh. It earns another piercing cry and Zayn is severely crying his eyes out, hiccupping in the process. But Harry is pissed as hell. He slams the bloody razor flat on the dresser and his lips are so tight is scary. Ignoring how Zayn must feel after being cut into, he yanks Zayn by a handful of his hair. "You bitch! Now you've fucked up!"

Zayn winces and speaks weakly. "I'm... I'm sorry." But it can't even come out clearly for the tears.

"You're not sorry." Harry says. "But you will be, you stupid piece of shit." He pauses and looks at the bag of gummy bears. "You stopped eating what I gave you? That was my gift to you Zayn. I'm not happy."

"I'm sor..." He's about to say he's sorry, but obviously Harry doesn't think it's true so there's no point in it. "I will eat them now. I promise." He struggles to grab a bear from the pack, but eventually does. This one is red. "See? I'm about to eat it now."

Harry feels like he's being mocked right now, so as soon as Zayn puts the candy in his mouth, Harry grabs him by the neck causing Zayn to gasp. Consequently, the gasping makes him unexpectedly suck in too much air at once and the red gummy bear gets caught in his throat. He begins to struggle for air and he continues to do so until his eyes water. He can't scream properly either. So he's squealing.

Harry knows what's happening. He knows Zayn is choking. But he finds it sort of funny and he wants to wait and let go on his terms. Not Zayn's. A few seconds later, he finally releases his neck and stands back watching the struggling boy with an evil smirk on his face.

Immediately, Zayn bends forward and coughs up the sweet treat onto the floor without a second thought. He looks down at his leg which is still bleeding profusely and the red liquid tissue has gotten all over the edges of his underwear. He's still crying hard and his shaking is so visible, it could make a person's spine give out at the sight of him. "I didn't... I didn't mean to."

"It's too late for that, Zayn. Too late." He shakes his head and storms out of the room When he has surely disappeared, Zayn, who is completely out of breath, leans his head against the headboard and closes his eyes. He knows he's bleeding all over Harry's comforter enough as it is, but he still runs his fingers over the now, tender wounds. It makes him hiss. His fingertips are covered in blood and just the thought of it has his mind blacking in and out.

_How deep are these cuts? Am I going to bleed to death? Is it even enough for me to die? I hope so. Where's Harry?_

Before he can ask himself anymore questions, Harry's entering the room again and he has something else in his hand. It's...

_...a half of a lemon and a washcloth?_

"What are you doing Harry?" Zayn cries when Harry pushes him back somewhat and climbs on him. "Harry..." It's cut off because Harry is sitting on his waist with his back to him and he is so much more heavier and stronger than Zayn.

"You screamed when I told you not to. And you stopped eating when I never told you to."

"I know." His voice is strained and cracking from all the crying.

"Now you have to suffer the consequences of your actions."

"What are the consequences?"

"You will see." He wipes Zayn's wounds gently trying to coax him into a calm state. He wants him to think he's about to take care of him after all that's happened. But in reality, his plan is just the opposite. Zayn is crying now, but he certainly will have more to cry about by the time he's done with him.

The washcloth is so bloody when Harry finishes, it's almost as if it was bought red. Harry feels no mercy for Zayn though. This is fun for him.

"Time for your consequence Zayn. It's time for you to learn why it's important to do whatever I tell you to do, whenever I tell you to do it."

"No, I'm... I'm sorry." he whines. "I really am. I'm not kidding." His tears are heavier than previously. "What did I tell you earlier Zayn? Huh?"

"I-I don't remember."

"I said it was too late. And too late means too late. I've made up my mind."

"But Harry- AGGHH STOP IT! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! HARRY STOP IT!"

Zayn is hitting at Harry's back with his one free hand bloodying up the back of his shirt. He's trying to kick his legs too, but he can't because Harry's is holding his wounded leg down with one hand.

"HARRY!"

"No."

"PLEASE!"

"I said no."

"BUT IT BURNS!"

"I don't care. You wanted something to scream about? Now you have it."

"NO! NO... STOP... Please stop. Please Harry. I'm begging you..." Zayn whimpers now giving up on fighting Harry. He just closes his eyes and continues to cry. He tries his best to forget everything and only recall the dream of laying out in the field. How it was so peaceful and calm; completely the opposite of this. How the sun was shining bright and all he could smell was the nature surrounding him.

_That's the life... I want that. I wish I could have it._

But then, just like the dream that was interrupted and just like he was awaken from sleep that day in class, this is cut short too. But not by a school bell. It's his piercing screams that bounce from wall to wall as Harry squeezes more lemon juice into the open and bleeding flesh.

 


	35. 35

Zayn doesn't go to school the next day. He refuses to out of nothing but fear. He's never been so terrified of anyone in his life. Harry is a first and yesterday has given him every reason to be.

His wrist is all bruised up from the handcuffs when he was yanking it so much and his thigh is so sore. Harry had sent him home bleeding through his pants yesterday, saying it was his own job to get it cleaned up so that it doesn't get infected, but he was given strict instructions not to cover it with any sort of bandage afterward.

The open cuts in his leg do spell out a word though: HARRY. They were sort of neatly carved into his leg. All except the last line on the Y that he angrily did after Zayn moved when he wasn't supposed to. But it's neat nonetheless.

However, lemons, handcuffs and a razor weren't the only things used yesterday. Afterward, Harry had taken off Zayn's underwear and used his phone to take pictures. So now he's got another set of pictures of 'naked Zayn'. Except in these, Zayn is crying and still handcuffed to the bed. The memory makes Zayn cringe. He can't believe he had to go through that.

So all day he'd stayed in bed, his mother not caring all, saying that his choosing home over school is why he'll 'never be good enough' for her before heading out of the door for work. He pondered those words and concluded that every word she says is true. He won't ever be good enough for her. Or anyone for that matter.

"Zayn?" It's his own voice in his head. His stupid conscience has returned.

"What do you want?"

"You could always you know... tell everyone. Harry isn't going to stop. Can't you see it's only getting worse? He's starting to hurt you now."

Zayn sighs and looks out his open blinds. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You've only been out of this room to use the bathroom. You haven't even eaten anything yet. You're just in here still huddled up. If Harry has you this scared, it can't be good for you. How can you just let this happen? Something needs to be done."

"What am I gonna do?! He has pictures, you idiot!" Zayn suddenly screams as if he's talking to a real person. "He's got pictures of me naked! Pictures of me bleeding, handcuffed to his fucking bed and I look like like shit!"

"But Zayn..."

"No! He's going to tell everyone if I say anything! And he means everyone! And if my mother finds out, that's it for me! Alright?!"

Silence.

"Okay, so... so what then?"

He lowers his voice. "All I have to do is keep doing what I've been doing until it's time. Then everything will be good. Trust me. I've got it under control."

"Until it's time? What do you mean? Zayn runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily looking in his lap. "When I got home yesterday, I... I did some thinking and I've finally set a date... I know when I'm going to kill myself."


	36. 36

The next day is Friday, and Zayn is sure he's got tests to take in school. So he does get up and go. He hardly got any sleep last night, as it's been since New Years, so he's dragging around school, eyes barely open and he can't think straight. He's not sure if he passed those tests or not.

By lunch time, he feels a bit annoyed. Not with anyone else though. He feels annoyed with himself. And there are many reasons he's keeping inside that's causing him to feel that way.

He makes his way to the cafeteria and as he is about ready to step through the doors, someone grabs his arm. He turns around to see it's no one other than "Harry." he whispers.

"Surprised to see me, huh?"

Zayn doesn't answer as Harry yanks him and starts dragging him down the hallway and out of sight. He keeps pulling him until they're in the locker room, then locks the door behind them.

Zayn hates this place. Gosh, he hates it with everything he has. Just the thought of losing his virginity here makes him so disappointed in himself; makes him feel like dirt. It makes him feel nasty. Like he's some prostitute that'll sleep anywhere, with anyone. Zayn's not that at all.

_I'm not that at all, right?_

"Why didn't you come to school yesterday?" Zayn is pulled out of his thoughts to see Harry taking his backpack off and setting it on the ground. "I, I, um, I-"

"-Because you were sick? And I suggest that be your answer or you'll piss me off."

"Yeah... I was sick." he lies as he also takes off his backpack. Anything not to piss Harry off.

"Well... I would've taken you to my house to do this yesterday, and maybe even today. But for one, I've got an important place to be with my dad this evening so I'd just be in a rush and two, I'm eager to see how it looks." He smiles so brightly and points to one of the benches. "Go on. Stand over there. I need to see your mark."

Zayn actually has relief come over him then, because Harry won't be doing anything unwanted to him after school today.

_A break. Thank you._

He slowly walks over to the bench and stands in front of it. Harry follows.

As Harry gets on his knees, he notices how tense Zayn is and he immediately tries to calm him. "No, don't be scared. Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you today. I just want to see. That's all."

He brings his fingertips to Zayn's belt and undoes it somewhat quickly. Once it's loosened and his pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, he gently pulls down his pants to his ankles being sure not to scrape against his cuts.

Zayn comes to the conclusion that it's a good thing Harry locked that door from the inside or someone could walk in at anytime and see this. How embarrassing that would be.

"It's looks good Zayn. I love it a lot." Harry beams and he kisses it making Zayn hiss a little. "Now that you have this, do you know what it means?"

"No." And to be frank, Zayn doesn't want to know. But Harry tells him anyway and he does so between giggles.

"It means you're mine. It means you do what I say because my name is on you and you are my property now. Even when it heals, it means you still belong to me and I still have control over you."

Harry has gone into full laughter now. He is literally doubling over, giggling so hard that he sounds like a little kid being constantly tickled. It confuses Zayn.

"Can you believe it?" he asks. "A stupid name gives me control over you." More laughter. Since when was something like this this funny?

"A stupid name." he repeats and he buries his head in Zayn's unscarred leg Zayn is afraid to touch him though. He's afraid Harry will get angry at him and it might not end right for him. He just wants to get out of this locker room without getting hurt again. That's all.

However, as he continues to look down, he sees Harry's shoulders are quickly vibrating up and down. Something about it isn't very right. It doesn't seem much like laughing anymore. "Harry..." His voice is soft, cautious, weary.

When he looks up, Zayn gasps and stumbles backward onto the bench in total shock. How has Harry gone from laughing hysterically to crying? What's going on?

"I guess you're good Zayn." he mumbles. "You're good. You can leave now."

"Are- are you sure Harry? I don't want you to get angry-"

"-Go!" he yells and he backs away from Zayn sitting on the heels of his feet. He's still crying, but he looks sort of dazed. He's not looking at anything. Just out into space and he doesn't seem to be interested in facing Zayn anytime soon So Zayn stands, adjusts his clothes and tightens his belt. He tries to not even look at Harry as he grabs his backpack and heads out of the door.


	37. 37

Harry stands in the downstairs bathroom looking at the black heart tattoo located toward the front of his left arm, near his shoulder. It brings back so many bad memories and it makes him sink his teeth into his lip thinking about them. He's thinking about how evil his father's face looked when he was using a blade from one of his old pocket knives and carving his initials into his arm.

He's thinking about how painful it was, how his father held him down and pressed that blade into his skin... He hates it. He hates how it happened on his 12th birthday. He hates how it left such an ugly scar. How ugly it used to make his body look when his shirt was off. He couldn't stand it any longer, and that is why he had it covered over in the form of this tattoo last year. No one knows the scar is there now. Only Harry and though that does make him feel better, it's only by a little because there's still the way he feels inside and that feeling has been lingering for four years now. He holds on to it and he doesn't want to let it go. He doesn't want to give anyone a chance to help him let it go either, so it's why he's been so stubborn to Dr Kershman and all his other therapists prior to her.

In Harry's head, he isn't finished with Zayn. There's more that needs to be done. More that _will_ be done. And he's looking so forward to it.

"Harry, are you ready? It starts at six o'clock and we're already a few minutes late leaving."

Harry jumps and sees his foster dad's reflection in the mirror. He scrambles for positive thoughts. "Y-yeah dad. I'll be ready after I put my shirt and coat on."

His foster dad smiles widely. "I'll be in the car then."

"Okay."

When his foster dad disappears, he snatches his shirt from the back of the toilet and begins to put it on. He wonders what Zayn will think when he goes back to school on Monday. How he'll feel towards Harry after seeing him cry. He's not sure, but he has an idea how he'll be. So he's just going to use all weekend to figure out how to effectively enforce to Zayn that he's still his princess. And though he may have had a little water in his eyes today, nothing has really changed. And nothing ever will.


	38. 38

It's been two weeks since Harry cried at Zayn's feet and ever since then, he has been acting in 3 ways Zayn never thought he'd ever have to endure.

Obsessive.

Controlling.

Abusive.

Today is Harry's birthday and Harry has brought Zayn back to his house. Even though his foster dad wanted to, he couldn't do anything for his birthday because he had to work. However, he did give him his gifts before he went to school. He had surprised him by setting them in his room while he was sleeping. And Harry was so eager, he opened them before he left the house.

But despite his new things, Harry still wants something else. Something that isn't a material thing. He wants company. And that's what Zayn is here for His three friends had bailed on him, saying they had more important things to do and couldn't celebrate with him and he'd told them he was alright. In all truthfulness though, he wasn't alright. He was afraid of being alone. Especially on his birthday.

So now he's in his room and watching Zayn, who's sitting in his bed and doing his homework.

"You know... you sure have been quiet lately. Zayn looks up at Harry who's sitting at his desk and he's got some little metal piece carving into the desk. Zayn thinks it's what he's always using when he's carving in it because it's the same one he used that day he just came and kissed Zayn for no apparent reason. "What?"

"You've been really quiet. I don't quite like it at all."

"Oh... I'm just... I'm not trying to be." And he's right. He's not trying to be. He's reluctantly allowing Harry to make him that way.

"Well what is it you want then? Do you want me to take you places?"

Zayn nervously hit his pencil against the book. "No."

_Definitely no. If anyone sees me with Harry that's it. What if my mother sees us? She'd kill me._

"Are you sure? Cause I know places to take you."

Zayn nods, trying to ignore the way Harry is now rubbing his chin and studying him.

"Well, am I not giving you enough attention or something?"

_Far from it._

"No. It's okay."

Harry drops the metal piece on the desk and stands up making his way over to Zayn. He runs his fingertips over Zayn's jaw, then leans down in front of him smiling. "Well tell me something. Princesses should have what they want, right?"

_Then I want you to stop touching me._

Yeah, right. He wishes he was brave enough to say those words out loud. "I don't want anything."

Harry frowns deeply. "Your eyes don't say 'you don't want anything'."

Now Zayn looks away so Harry's hand isn't on his chin anymore. He doesn't want Harry to read his body language even though he's clearly reading it wrong right now.

"You look like you want _something_."

"No."

"Are you lying to me? Because I don't like when you lie to me. You know that."

"I'm not lying."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want to finish my homework."

"What?"

"I want to finish my homework." he repeats adamantly.

But to Harry, it's a little too adamant and he doesn't like that response. So he laughs and takes his pencil out of his hand throwing it across the room. Then he pushes his book off to the floor. "Wrong answer."

_Wait... what the fuck? He just said I should get what I want. I thought he legitimately cared for a moment. Is this some kind of game now?_

"What do you want?" he asks again.

His answer comes out slowly this time. "I-I don't know."

"Wrong answer again."

Zayn's eyes widen when Harry brings his hands to his body, then quickly and forcibly pulls his two shirts over his head so that he is shirtless.

"Okay Zayn. I'm giving you one more chance to answer it right. What... do you... want?"

"I-I don't know what to say."

"Wrong."

When Zayn sees him going for his belt to undo it, he springs from the bed running for the door, not caring that he is going to leave his shirts and books behind. As he reaches the doorway though, Harry grabs one of his wrists.

"Let me go Harry!" He tries to pull away and grab onto the doorpost with his other hand, but Harry is too strong and pries him away.

"You're not going anywhere." He yanks Zayn's body toward him and kicks the door closed. Then he locks it.

"Harry! Stop it!"

"You know... When you fight me, it really pisses me off." Harry says calmly and there is some strain and frustration in his voice. "Do you have any idea how many people have to go through this? Do you know how many have had to go through this before? How many people sat there and took it like they were expected to?"

"Please! No!"

Harry drags Zayn over to his dresser and opens the top drawer. He reaches in and grabs the pair of handcuffs he keeps in there. "I thought I wasn't going to have to use these again, but it looks like I will. And it looks like I'll need another set."

"NO! "Too late Zayn. You've already forced me." Zayn keeps trying to get away, and he's trying really hard. But Harry is too strong. And before he knows it, Harry has him on the bed with one of his wrists handcuffed to the bedpost just like last time.

"Help! Somebody help me!"

That's when Harry slaps him. And he hits him so hard, Zayn's glasses come off and fall onto the floor.

"You shut it! No one can hear you, so shut your mouth!"

But Zayn still won't. He only gets louder and smacks Harry's arm away with his free hand. "HELP ME!"

"Okay, clearly you don't want to be quiet, so I have to get something extra for you." Harry leaves out of the room laughing and Zayn continues to scream.

_I just want to get out of here! Why is no one hearing me?!_

"PLEASE! ANYBODY, HELP ME!" he continues to call for the next two minutes. "PLEASE! But he gasps when Harry comes into the room with another pair of handcuffs and a roll of box tape. When he sits a small key down on the dresser, it scares Zayn even more because he knows it's for the second set of cuffs, which means Harry is serious.

"Okay Harry. I'll stop screaming if you don't put any of that on me. I promise. I won't scream." Harry grabs his wrist. "Please Harry. I'm begging you. Don't do this please."

But Harry puts this pair around both wrists so that his hands are both handcuffed together while still cuffed to the bedpost. Then he reaches for the tape, tearing off about a 8 inch long strip of it with his teeth.

"Help! He's trying to rape me! Stop it Harry!"

Harry chuckles. "Don't be silly, Zayn. It's only rape if you don't want it. Don't you know that by now?"

"But I don't wan-" Except he can't finish his sentence because Harry is putting the tape over his mouth and sealing it well. Now all Zayn can do is make faint humming noises, so he tries kicking at Harry as Harry reaches down to undo his belt. But because Harry is standing beside the bed and not in front of him, he can't really kick him at all, so he's forced to watch Harry undo his jeans, pull them down from his legs along with his underwear and throw it all onto the floor.

"Well, well. There are alot of things I have thought of to do to you Zayn. But before I start, I want you to know I never wanted to do you like this today. This wasn't my intention. I just wanted you to tell me you wanted me. I just wanted you to feel something. But obviously you don't."

Zayn watches him grab a little camcorder from his nightstand, open it, and start pecking at the buttons. "See, I've done so many things for you. But you never appreciate it. You only want to run away each time I try to get close to you. I hate that, you know... I can't stand it. Which means it looks like I'm going to have to be a little more tougher than I already am, aren't I? I'm going to have to be more forceful. More threatening. More... disgusting you might say. And believe me. I can be disgusting. I can be vile, I can be evil. I can even be torturous."

Zayn's heart rate speeds up. He's dealt with the torturous side of Harry before. He doesn't want it again.

Harry sits the camcorder on his desk and aims it toward the bed. "Crying? Really?"

Zayn hasn't really realized he's crying.

"Don't cry. I'm fully dressed. See? I'm not gonna fuck you. Well put it this way... I'm not gonna use my dick."

What? Zayn's mind is flip flopping all over the place. What does he mean?

"Alright now, the camcorder is on. I got this for my birthday today, and this is going to be my first ever recorded video on here. So that means you have to be good. And before you ask, no, this is not being recorded for anyone. It's for me. It's something to have on you just in case you decide to get out of hand like the stunt you just pulled." He shakes his head in disappointment. "Running? After all the times I have made you feel better, and made you feel good inside? I mean... I'd like to think I made you feel good inside. Because each time we do this, I end up having to change the comforter on my bed."

Harry snickers, but Zayn just stares at him mumbling something inaudible due to the tape.

"What was that?... Oh right."

Harry's such an evil disgusting asshole. And Zayn can't think of a harsher description of words.

"Alright Princess. It's time. I just want you to relax, okay?"

_Relax?! How the hell am I supposed to relax when I don't even know what you're going to do to me?!_

Harry comes over to Zayn and crawls on the bed directly in front of him. He takes his hands and spreads Zayn's legs pushing them back some. Zayn puts up some resistance, but for some reason, leg strength isn't the same as arm strength and his resistance is too weak. Harry adjusts his legs, so that Zayn's legs have no choice but to lay over his and slightly wrap and around his waist.

"You know... this would be really intimate if you weren't in such a fucking hurry to get away all the time."

Zayn jumps and cringes when he feels Harry's cold hands grasp his dick. This is not what he wants...

Harry continues. "Don't you understand that? We'd be alright if you just stay still. And I know I still have things planned for you that have yet to happen, but when you're with me, I'd like for you to stop pretending like you don't like this. I know you do Zayn."

Harry remembers his dad telling him those things too. Now it's his turn to relay those words to someone else.

He continues to use his hand slowly up and down the shaft, and he smiles smugly because Zayn's getting considerably harder, which means even though he looks terrified for his life right now, his body can't help but to react and enjoy this. He moves his hand at a steady rhythm for a few minutes, then finally quickens the pace. All the while, finding it so easy to ignore the tears still spilling from Zayn's eyes.

"Are you getting there yet?" Harry asks minutes later, now making it his every intention to constantly swipe across the tip, which has become increasingly more sensitive with every touch. "Show me if you are. Because you can't cum yet."

_What is this? Another one of his stupid games? How am I supposed to stop myself when he's touching me like this?_

Another minute goes on and Zayn's whimpers get louder, all of them humming noises, and eventually his breathing picks up too.

The moment Zayn's eyes tighten and and his back begins to arch off the bed, Harry yanks his hand away from his body. At the loss of contact, Zayn opens his eyes and he feels so embarrassed that even though he hates this, Harry has turned him on so much now, that he's wanting Harry to finish what he started. He wants Harry to make him cum. He'll feel disgusted with himself later, but he can't worry about that now when he's reaching his peak. It's going to feel so great.

"Not yet. Hand jobs are just one way. I want you to experience this other way to get a climax. One I haven't really done to you before."

Harry moves back from him and pushes one of Zayn's legs back.Because of this, Harry has a perfect view of his ass. Harry thinks it's in need of something, maybe even begging for it. So he inserts his index finger. He smirks when Zayn's first involuntary moan of the day comes out. "I knew you wanted this. I knew you wanted this all along." he says with a nod.

Zayn turns his head to bury his face in his arm. He hates to say it and even more so, he hates to admit it... But this feels really good. How can Harry do this to him? How can Harry have treated him decent one moment, hurt him the next, scare him another, then make him feel like this now? How is it that Harry can do all of that to him in under an hour? It isn't fair.

Harry tries to kiss Zayn's inner thigh in an effort to make this as intimate as possible, but it isn't enough for him. So with the fingers that aren't inside Zayn, he leans up and over Zayn and takes the tape off slowly. He's convinced that the young boy is so dazed from being so close to an orgasm, that he won't even scream.

He's right.

Zayn's actually panting and he finds it so... arousing, that he resumes his position, lifting Zayn's leg back and he inserts his middle finger along with his index finger shamelessly and recklessly into Zayn, moving them so that Zayn growls and mumbles a 'Fuck...' Harry likes that.

"Nothing has made me prouder all week than seeing you like this." Harry says. "Nothing. You've been a really good princess in the last few minutes."

Unfortunately, if that's the word, Zayn doesn't hear him because the tips of Harry's long fingers have found exactly what he has been hoping they found. And they are gently rubbing against it as if Harry knows what he's doing. Maybe Harry does.

"Harry... Harry's head shoots up at the sound of the two syllables. He's in shock. Utter disbelief. Zayn has just called out his name for the first time. Not in the normality kind of way. It's the _way_ he calls it, breathlessly and in want, that has Harry's body tingly with fond. It's exactly the way he had been trying to get him to call it since New Years when they were in the back of his car.

In less than two minutes from then, Harry's purposeful repetitive grazing sends Zayn right over the edge and he's breathing so hard, his stomach muscles seem to be sinking behind his ribcage whenever he sucks in his breath. Harry thinks it's hot as hell as he watches on and he realizes that Zayn's orgasm lasts longer than he anticipated, not that he's complaining.

Harry kisses his leg a few more times, enjoying the way his skin feels and when Harry drops Zayn's leg and scoots back from between them, Zayn's lips begins to tremble. Right on cue, he's disgusted with himself. And on top of that, he still feels the sting from Harry's earlier slap Harry stands up and goes over to the dresser, where he gets the key out of the top drawer. He makes his way back over to Zayn and uses it to free him from the bed post. Afterward, He sits that pair along with it's key on the nightstand. Then he picks up the second key, unlocks the second pair and sits those on the nightstand as well.

By the time he goes to the bathroom, washes his hands and comes back to turn off the camcorder, he sees that Zayn is balled up facing away from him and he's covering his face with his hands "Babe... It's okay."

_Babe? What a dick!_

"No Harry. Don't touch me." He whispers through crying, because he's peeking through his hands and can see Harry crawling in the bed and over to him.

"It's alright."

"Harry, please."

"Shh. It's okay." He sits next to him in the bed, then reaches over and hooks one of his arms under Zayn's legs and one behind his back. It doesn't take much for him to slide the naked and whimpering boy into his lap, ignoring the semen that will probably rub off of Zayn's stomach onto his clothes.

"It's alright." Harry assures kissing his sweaty forehead and he runs his fingers through his hair. "It's alright now. "


	39. 39

Zayn sits in the middle of the floor of his room later that night, just before bed.

He's naked.

And he's naked because he doesn't feel worthy of wearing clothes. He feels as empty as he's ever felt. His insides feel like they are gone, like they don't exist.

He feels hollow.

 _I can't be real._ he thinks. _Real people don't go through this because_ _there's_ _no way stuff like this happens in real life._

He's got his pad from under the bed and he's roughly scratching out possible suicide possibilities that he's sure will fail now. He's got about 20 left on this list now. Compared to the 36 in total he had listed at first, it's quite the trim.

"Only nineteen more left, Zayn." It's his voice speaking "Yeah, and only three more months." Zayn replies.

"Yeah."

Zayn ponders the thought for a while, before a half smile appears on his face. "And I can't wait." he whispers.


	40. 40

Today, Harry called Zayn a 'fag'.

_The f word..._

It's back.

Zayn thought he was done hearing it. But apparently not. Apparently Harry still finds delight in calling him one. He knows he'd only said it out of spite today, but he still doesn't understand it. Because if Harry is doing the same things Zayn is doing and doing them with him, doesn't that make him one too? Isn't he a...

_Isn't he the f word too?_

Zayn is sitting in the school cafeteria pondering those things when someone comes to sit next to him. He recognizes this person right off the bat. It's the new girl. Well, she's not so new anymore.

"Hi." the brown haired girl says putting her tray down.

Zayn stays quiet.

"Mind if I sit here just for today? The girls I usually sit with invited someone extra to sit at the table and there's no more room for me. I saw you sitting alone and I thought I'd come sit with you at least."

Zayn nods timidly. "Sure."

The girl sits down and opens her bottle of water. "So how come you're not eating? As a matter of fact, I never see you eat. Why?"

"I don't eat lunch anymore. "Never?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I just don't." He won't tell her his reason is because this is also Harry's lunch period and that he doesn't even want eating to distract him from something Harry could possibly do to him.

"Oh." She shrugs her shoulders, stabs some of her salad with her fork, then studies Zayn intently. "Wait, I saw you in the team photo in the trophy case... You're on the soccer team aren't you? Zayn nods, a small smile playing on his face. Maybe his dumb decision to be on the team is paying off. Sure he knows that he likes guys now, so he's not using it to find out who he is anymore. But it can still be used as a cover. There's no way anyone can even think he likes boys if they see he's on the team with all these guys who chase skirt tails all day long. _Goal accomplished._

"Well, I think that's pretty awesome. Except for the fact that you're on the team with Harry Styles whom everybody here seems to worship. I mean, he's just a person you know? Personally, I think it's pretty stupid." She snickers a little, then stops to correct herself remembering Zayn knows Harry and he could probably repeat those words to him. "Don't get me wrong. He seems like an okay guy. I just don't see what the big deal is. It's like people are afraid to tell him no or something."

"His dad is a cop." Zayn blurts out, though he doesn't mean to and he's not sure if he should have said that or not.

"Oh, is that why people worship him? They're scared of what his dad might do? Wow, that's pretty pathetic." She eats a bite of the salad.

"You clearly don't understand. That's not the reason I..." Zayn begins to say. But he has to get his thoughts together first, before he accidently gives away the things he and Harry have done over the past four and a half months or so. "P-people have their r-reasons for being intimidated by him. It's not necessarily that."

She waits until she's finished chewing and swallowing her food to speak. "Yes, I see. It's probably because he's also a really good looking guy, but I'm not falling in that trap." She chuckles. "When I first got to this school, his friends tried to set me up with him. But I told him I didn't have time for a boyfriend and that my loyalty is to college this year. I told him we'd just be friends. Sure, I regret saying we'd even be friends, but I think I made the right decision in not getting involved with him now that I've been here long enough to see what he's like. Honestly, if you were a girl who showed any kind of interest in him, I'd never suggest you date him."

Zayn swallows thickly. "Why not?"

She laughs and bumps his shoulder. "Why would I tell you? You're Harry's friend. Plus, it doesn't really matter if you know or not. It's not like you've come close to kissing him or anything. And I get the feeling that he's not into guys for you to even have to worry about that. I think it's clear that he likes girls. And then I see the way he behaves himself around girls too... He's kind of like a womanizer in my opinion."

The moment Zayn hears that last statement, he wants to punch her in the face for actually coming to that conclusion. "Not at all. He's not a womanizer." He hates that he seems more upset than anything as he speaks, but that's only because she doesn't know the private things Harry has done with him. If she did, she'd never say that.

"Oh yeah, and how can you be so sure?" She is serious when she asks this question. No hint of skepticism, challenging or joking in her voice.

Zayn sighs depressingly and chews his bottom lip to keep from crying or blurting out the truth about himself as well as Harry. "I know the real Harry."


	41. 41

It has been a relatively quiet day. Zayn lays out on Harry's bed flat on his stomach and he's just pushed his homework off to the side. He's totally spent because he's had a very long week and he just wants to relax. He wants Harry to take him home and let him be.

However, as he closes his eyes and rests his chin on the back of his hands, he hears his name.

"Zayn."

"Yeah?" Whenever he hears his name and it's in Harry's voice, he immediately becomes attentive. He turns over on his back and sits up. He sees Harry walking over to him.

"What... what did that girl want the other day?"

"What girl?"

"You know uhm... um..." Harry does everything he can to keep from saying a name and Zayn can tell. "That girl you sat with at lunch."

Zayn has to think about who he's referring to. But then it comes to him. "Oh. Her. Sh-she didn't want anything. She just didn't have anywhere to sit because her friends gave her seat away. T-that's all... why?"

But by Harry's complex facial expression, Zayn's wondering if it was okay to question Harry's reason for asking.

Harry rests his hands on Zayn's shoulders and pushes him backwards on the bed in a slow, casual, non daunting manner. He crawls on top of him, so that his knees are on both sides of him.

"I don't want you talking to her anymore."

Zayn's eyebrows raise in confusion, because this is a rather strange order from Harry. "I-I don't understand."

Harry takes Zayn's wrists and puts them above his head so that his arms are laying flat on the bed. He brings the palm of his hands in Zayn's and laces their fingers, then he leans down so that he's rubbing their noses together gently.

"Please don't talk to anyone but me. You're mine. You have my name on your leg, not hers. Remember?"

Zayn nods. "Yeah." Of course he remembers. The scars are going to be there forever.

"Well then, no more conversations with her. Yeah, I get that she is focused on college and everything and that you are younger and in a lower grade than her, but you know." Harry frowns. "I still don't like it. At all."

Zayn freezes.

_Is that... Jealousy? Are you so jealous of a simple conversation that you're still talking about it, even four days later?_

He can't believe what's going on right now. Why does Harry seem so bothered by this? Why does he seem to not like even the idea of him talking to someone else who's not him. He doesn't have the answer, but he knows that he somewhat likes it. Jealousy, in a strange way, looks good on Harry. Just as he begins to smile though, Harry's lips meet his, engaging him in a slow and lazy kiss. Zayn doesn't really want to kiss him back. But he does anyway, because he can't help but admit that since Harry first began to touch him inappropriately, he has always been attracted to a part of him. And right now, he decides to pretend that he's only kissing the part of Harry that he finds appealing.

Interesting though. Zayn isn't entirely sure what part of Harry it is that he finds appealing. All he's ever known is the touchy feely, controlling and abusive side of him. Of course, he has treated Zayn right sometimes, but it has never lasted long enough to be able to trust him. That leads Zayn to believe that it's all fool's gold. And he reminds himself that he should never get attached. He should continue on with his plans. That is what's definite.

When Harry finally removes his lips from Zayn's, he untangles their hands, softly lays down beside him and kisses up and down his jawline.

"We should just lay here." he says reaching under Zayn's shirt and drawing on his stomach with his fingertips.

This moment is so intimate, Zayn won't challenge that statement with a 'no'. "Okay."

Harry likes that response because Zayn's not trying to fight him about it. So he smiles and presses his mouth onto his neck.


	42. 42

When Zayn gets home that night, it's after seven thirty. His mother is standing in the kitchen with her arms folded when he enters.

"Where have you been?" she asks. Her voice is deathly calm.

"Out..."

"Out where?"

"Just out."

"How did you get home?"

"I-I walked home."

"You're lying Zayn."

"How?..."

"I was looking out the window just before you came in. You got out of a car and it looks like the same car that Harry picked you up in on New Years."

_Shit_ _._

"Why do you insist on lying to me? Huh? Is it because you and Harry have a thing and you don't want me to find out about it?"

"N-no."

"Then why are you always with him?"

Zayn is lost for words. Truthfully, he just wants to get out of here and get out of here now. "Because I... I- Mom there's nothing, okay?"

He sees the anger building in her face. It's so scary. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No. I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No. There's- there's nothing between us."

"Then what is that?!" She bolts over to him and points to a deep, cherry red hickey on his neck. "This doesn't look like 'nothing'!"

Zayn meant to cover that up with the collar of his coat. What was he thinking? How did he forget? "Its um... uh-"

"-Don't try to explain how it got there because I don't care for your lie. You just slept with him. Didn't you?"

"No." And he's telling the truth. Zayn and Harry didn't do anything. Harry only made this mark and he stopped.

"You know..." she says walking away from him. "You are really trying to make me out to be a fool and I don't appreciate it. Do you not remember the conversation we had at the dinner table a while back? I meant everything I said. If I find out what you're doing, if I catch you... that's it."

"I know that." he mumbles.

"Then you should at least act like you know." she says turning quickly to him and pointing a finger at him. "Because I swear Zayn. I will not hesitate to give you away. I will not."

As she walks away, Zayn's not sure if the stinging sensation he feels in his heart is physical or mental. In a way, he's hoping it's physical. He's hoping that it's a sign that something is wrong internally with him. Something that he can't fix. But no matter what he wants to think, he has a feeling it's mental. Which means that though he's always known his mother isn't really happy with him being her child, this is the first time she's actually used words to tell Zayn how she feels on the inside and it hurts him more than he wants it to.

He drags himself down the hallway to his room and closes the door behind him.

"Does she really hate me so much, that she would willingly give me away to someone else?" he sighs.

"She's your mother Zayn. Of course not. She doesn't mean that."

"Not now." Zayn mumbles. "I don't feel like hearing you right now. Go away."

"You do realize I am your conscience and that this is you telling yourself those things about your mother, right?"

"Well, you want to know something then?" Zayn says laying out in his bed with his face in the covers.

"What."

"I think I'm wrong."


	43. 43

Zayn had been nervous about spending the night at Harry's. His mother didn't appreciate it either, as evident in how much she yelled at him before he left, calling him a "sneaky little boy".

But Zayn went anyway against her wishes (of course) and now he sits at the dinner table with Harry and surprisingly, Harry's dad, whom he's only seen one or two times.

"I think it's great that you're friends." Harry's foster dad says happily. "But you don't really have to be afraid to tell me that you're already more than friends either Harry. You know that."

Harry frowns. "Dad."

"What? I'm just saying..."

Harry looks down at his plate. "Can we change the subject please?"

His foster dad gives in and changes the subject. "Fine."

As they get on the topic of police officers, Zayn finds his mind wondering. Harry's dad is such the opposite of his mother. He would except his son, but his own mother wouldn't except him? That's not fair. Something else that makes him sad is that Harry's dad has no clue what Harry has been doing to him. He has no clue that his son has physically and sexually abused him over the past four months. Or on a more technical level, the last two and a half years. Sure they are not officially more than friends, as in a dating couple, but they have done everything under the sun that 'more than friends' do.

"What about you Zayn?" Harry's foster dad asks, bringing him back into the conversation. "Have you thought about what you are going to do when you graduate?"

Zayn sits his fork down calmly. "Uh..." _No, because unfortunately, I'm not going to live to see my graduation._ "Not really."

"Well that's important, you know." Harry's foster dad says. "It's time you start thinking about it. That way you'll have a good idea of what college courses you should be taking."

"Yes sir. I know." Zayn says. And he glances at Harry who's looking him up and down and biting his lip, almost as if he's thinking about doing something to him right now in front of his father. However, as he studies his face more, he sees Harry's not staring at him because he wants to do anything sexually with him. He's looking at Zayn like he's already done something. He's looking at him as if he's waiting on something. As if he waiting on Zayn to do something. Well, Zayn isn't sure what that "something" is, but he has a feeling it isn't right.

.

.

.

It isn't until after dinner that Zayn understands his hunch was spot on. His body feels weak and he can barely get himself to even sit up in Harry's bed.

"Harry? What's wrong with me?" he asks.

But all he sees is a blurry figure coming over to the bed and he's a little bit dizzy too.

"Harry? What's wrong with me? Am I dying?"

"No. Relax. You're not dying." he says calmly.

"Why am... Why can't I move much? Why can't I see clearly?" Zayn's trying to scream in panic, but he's even too weak to do that.

"Just relax Zayn."

"No, answer my question please." Zayn cries lightly. "Why is this happening? "

Harry sighs. "I needed to test something for the future Zayn, and I need you to be able to do it."

"To do what?... Why do you need me? What... What have you done?"

Harry rubs his hands together slowly, then taps Zayn's chin lightly. "I've drugged you Zayn."


	44. 44

"Drugged me? What?"

"Don't worry babe. It won't kill you. I only put enough in your food to get the job done. I just needed to test it out. You can't be able to fight back, or scream or do anything. I need you weak and frail for what's going to happen to you."

This is terrifying to Zayn. What could Harry be talking about? Why is he dodging the answer to his question? And why would he need him to be weak and frail?

Zayn has to piece his words together. "Harry please... explain what you mean."

"I can't right now. But you'll know in time. Trust me." Harry pushes Zayn back down flat on the bed, then pulls the covers up over him.

"Harry."

"Just try to get some sleep. I promise you'll be better and you'll see clearer in the morning. Just go to sleep."

"B-but how do you know? How can you possibly know I'll be better tomorrow?" Zayn asks as tears escape his eyes making it that much more harder to see.

Harry pauses for a moment as if he's thinking. Then he goes back to adjusting the covers, glad Zayn can't read his facial expression. "I just know alright?"


	45. 45

Dr. Kershman gives Harry a large smile as she writes down what they've just talked about. Today's session is mostly focussed on things that would appeal to Harry and get him to open up since that had been the hardest thing for him with all the therapists he's ever had. They'd just finished talking about him being on the school's soccer team. Harry never once got angry.

"Well, Harry. I have another fun question for you this time. I think this will help you."

He raises his eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Have you thought about a partner?"

"A what?"

"A partner. You know, like a girlfriend or for you... a boyfriend."

Harry immediately becomes defensive. "Why? What does that have to do with anything?"

Dr. Kershman collects her thoughts. "Look, I know you don't feel comfortable talking about your past situation with your father with anyone and honestly, I'm not asking you to do that. But I think it would be a good idea if you can find someone that could possibly occupy your mind a lot of the time. You're an only child and it's not going to be much of a help if you're sitting at home alone and you're thinking about all the things that used to happen to you. Harry, I'm a doctor. I am trained in this profession. You should listen to me. I think that would be really good for you."

Harry looks down into his lap and is uncomfortably quiet for a minute or so. Dr. Kershman doesn't say anything because she wants to let him get it out. Notably, she finds out it's the right decision. Because when Harry looks up again, he's crying and he's ready to tell her how he feels.

"There is one guy." he sniffles. "He um. He goes to my school."

She relaxes. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. I just don't... I don't know how to show him or tell him that I like him. I don't know if he's ever gonna know, or even if I want him to know. Not after the things I've done."

"Don't blame yourself Harry. What your father did to you, is not your fault."

Harry scoffs at those words because she thinks he's talking about his past when he's actually referring to the things he's done to Zayn and will continue to do to him.

"How about we stay focused on positive things today. Do you think he likes you back?"

"I don't know. It's so hard to tell. Sometimes he's looks at me like he does."

Dr. Kershman gushes, while trying to remember to show sympathy for how distraught Harry really is. "Well tell me. Is he a senior? Is he graduating this year too?"

Harry frowns and his eyes squint briefly because he knows he's about to lie to her. "Yeah."

"And what's his name?"

Harry sighs and wipes his eyes. "His name is Zayn. Zayn Malik."


	46. 46

The next day, Wednesday, Harry finds it extremely hard to concentrate. Yesterday's visit really has him thinking. On his way to school, he nearly crashes into a car that was stopped in front of him at a stoplight. At lunch, he's so spaced out, his friends decide it's funny to make jokes about him being high. And in all his classes, he just sits in the back like a bump on a log and he makes no attempt at taking notes.

There's only one reason Harry's like this. There's only one reason he's not thinking clearly right now. It's Zayn. Zayn isn't even here and he's got Harry all wound up.

When the last bell for school rings, Harry bolts out of the room and stands in the middle of the hallway. Other students are coming at him full speed and bumping their shoulders against his, but he doesn't care. He's overlooking them because he only cares about one person.

He begins to get really nervous and anxious as the students pass him and none of them are whom he's looking for. That is, until he spots dark hair and glasses rounding the corner. "Zayn." he whispers with a smile and he makes his way toward him.

Finally. He hasn't seen this boy all day.

It doesn't take long for him to reach Zayn and when he does, he ignores his scared expression and drags him down the hallway, and into a janitors closet. It isn't the same closet that's closest to the front doors like usual. It's another one somewhere near the school's basketball gym.

"Ouch." Zayn says when he trips over a pipe that's more than likely illegally sticking up in the middle of the floor.

"What are you doing Harry? What?" Zayn asks, but that's mostly because he's scared of being confined with him. He'd thought for sure that since Harry hadn't touched him all day, he'd gotten away this time. He was wrong He cowards down a bit when he thinks that Harry is going to do something to hurt him. Because Harry's bound to do something to hurt him and he's going to hurt him this time. Zayn just knows it.

Except, he is wrong again.

Harry isn't trying to hurt him at all. He doesn't even want to hurt him. Instead, he brings his hand behind Zayn's neck, and over the collar of his coat. Zayn can't even get a second to react before Harry's lips are touching his. And not just touching his, but they are pressed onto his mouth so hard, their noses are clashing as well. Zayn is finding it so hard to comprehend what's in fact, going on. But when Harry tugs his hair and forces a little moan so that he can slip his tongue in, he swiftly finds out that he doesn't really care to know. He just knows he likes it.

It's not hard to make the decision to kiss Harry back with just as much passion because Harry's not making it hard. He's making it so easy.

 _Why is it so damn easy?!_ Zayn's asks himself. _Why can't I just pull away?_

Turns out, that thought doesn't last long at all because after a few short moments of kissing, he finds that something is happening in his jeans. He has no trouble pulling away then. "Harry, I can't. I really can't."

Harry is confused and doesn't know what he's talking about until he sees Zayn covering his lower half. "Oh."

Zayn can't believe kissing did this to him. Kissing Harry has never done this to him.

"Don't be embarrassed." Harry says to him and he takes off his own backpack and his jacket. "It's alright."

Zayn can't believe he's not laughing at him. Harry's usually laughing so hard he can't breathe. And by now, he'd be making a dash out of the closet to leave him on his own.

"Take off your backpack and coat too." Harry orders, but Zayn is hesitant and still covering himself.

"No, Zayn, it's alright." he assures again. "I won't hurt you." And this time, he moves to help Zayn out of both items.

When they're both off and on the floor, Harry pushes him backward slowly, so that his back is up against the only empty section of the wall behind him. Harry's hand palms his erection making Zayn's whole body feel weak. It makes him feel numb and vulnerable. Because now he's changing his mind and he wants some sort of friction on or around it. Not just these pair of underwear and jeans.

And well... It looks like he's about to get his wish when Harry sinks to his knees.

"I can take care of this for you Zayn. But you've got to be really quiet because we're still in the school building. You can't make any noise. Or someone will come in on us."

As desperate as Zayn is, he nods quickly without weighing any options. Not that he cares about any stupid options right now. Specifically, if they don't involve Harry wrapping his mouth around his dick.

He closes his eyes and waits for Harry to undo his belt, his jeans, and pull out his aching member. When Harry does all of this, he sighs from relief and leans his head against the wall.

Unknowingly to him, Harry has already realized he doesn't need to do anything to Zayn in order to work him up. So without a warning or anything he just goes for it, not hesitating to get 60 percent of Zayn into his mouth the first go round. The feeling is so surreal, Zayn bucks his hips up and there's a groan that comes out of him that seems almost inhuman. It makes Harry happy, but it's also too loud. So he stops and backs away from Zayn looking up at him. "Zayn. I said no noises. Be an obedient little princess and just enjoy it without being loud."

 _Fuck being a princess. I just want this. And I want you to stop scolding me and go back to doing what you were doing!_ "Harry." Zayn begs.

"Don't be loud then." Harry warns.

"Please. Just go. Don't stop yet... I want you."

His last sentence.. It has Harry looking up at him in awe.

"Harry stop staring at me and do it. Touch me or something." he demands quietly.

"Okay, okay." Harry grins as he comes back to his senses, cause he'll take a whimpering and begging Zayn any day. "But I don't want us to get caught, so just uhm... Whenever you feel like getting loud, just grab my hair or something, yeah?"

"Okay." Zayn breathes out with a strain. And he can't get out of his head how much more arousing it is for Harry to say those words to him. This whole thing they're doing right now is mutual. They both want this and they want it equally. Just for this moment, Zayn doesn't even care that Harry is 18 while he is only 16.

Again, without any forewarning at all, Harry resumes his actions, giving Zayn as much pleasure as he can create and Zayn's mouth can't help but hang open at the feeling. No feeling has ever compared to this. None at all.

Until now.

Because he gets a greater feeling when Harry goes down further so that he's deep throating him and Zayn's mind whirls as he wonders why his gag reflex can't be as good as Harry's. It's totally unfair. And it's not just unfair because he knows Harry has probably wanted this in return. It's unfair because Harry had told him not make any noises when he really wants to right now. He really wants to just let it out and let Harry know that this is exactly what he was wanting. That he's never had any one make him feel the way Harry has made him feel.

But Harry wants him to be good. Harry wants him to be obedient. Submissive even. Which means he can't make any noises at all. So he just closes his eyes, and tightly tangles his fingers in Harry's hair.


	47. 47

Harry is taken out of his trance, when a hand waves in his face.

"Hey Harry. What's going on?"

"Huh? What?" He smacks the hand out of his face to see that it belongs to the the blonde haired boy. "What do you want?"

"First off, you're not eating." He points out. "Why? Secondly, you've been staring at Zayn since we got here. What's that all about? And lastly, why the hell are we sitting at a different table today?"

Harry huffs when the blue eyed one and the bearded one nod in accordance. "Why are you watching me? So what, I'm not eating. And if you don't like sitting at this table, go back and sit at the other one by yourselves."

"No, it's fine. I was just asking." the blonde one counters.

"Okay then."

"But why are you staring at Zayn?" The bearded one asks.

Harry pauses because he had purposely avoided having to answer it in the first place by harshly answering the other two questions. He figured they would leave well enough alone. But since they didn't, now it looks like he's going to have to lie to avoid suspicion.

His friends don't know about his father, his past or him liking his own sex. They don't know about Zayn either, or his mission to hurt him. They don't even know he sat at this particular table today, to get a better view of Zayn. He doesn't want them to know. "I was just... I wasn't... We were talking earlier...about soccer, cause you know the spring season is coming up and practice starts in two weeks. I was recalling our conversation. That's all."

"Since when do you talk to Zayn about anything other than how pathetic he and his life is?" the blue eyed one replies. "Isn't he a little faggot anyway?"

Harry gives him an angry look, not because of the word he used, but because he feels like he's the only one who should be allowed to say it about Zayn. "Shut up, you idiot. Leave him alone for one day. If I can do it, so can you."

"You've stopped teasing Zayn? How? When?" The blonde one asks faking shock.

Harry hasn't messed with Zayn in a week and hasn't even thought about it since their intimate session in the janitors closet.

"I have more important things to do right now. And the same goes for all of you dickwads. We all graduate in three months. That's what I want to focus on for now."

The three look at him for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. They feel he is joking. "Sure Harry." the bearded one states. "Whatever. Next, you're gonna tell us you have a vagina too."

More laughter follows and after a while, the three get up leaving him alone while they go dump their trays.

Harry resumes looking at Zayn and finally for the first time all lunch period, Zayn looks up from his papers to meet his gaze. "Hey." Harry mouths.

Zayn smiles and nods once.

Harry points to his watch, rolls his eyes and huffs. He's telling Zayn he's more than ready to leave lunch now.

Zayn chuckles a little and shakes his head looking down again. But that doesn't bother Harry at all. It's enough to get him through the last seven minutes or so left before they go back to classes. And it's probably enough to get him through the rest of the day too.


	48. 48

Zayn sits at home in the middle of his bed a few nights later. He's gotten his journal out from underneath his bed with the purpose of marking out something on his list.

The only thing is... He's having a hard time figuring out what to mark. He's only got 11 more in total to cross out, but he's aiming for two tonight. Apparently, he can't even focus on this task.

"Okay Zayn. It's obvious that it's Harry who's doing this to you. He's the reason you can't focus."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "What the fuck do you want now?" he grumbles.

"Not me, it's you."

"Me? What are you even talking about?"

"This is you talking to yourself. Don't forget that. "Why are you here then?"

"Something is going to happen to you. I can feel it. So I had to let you know."

"Something like what?"

"Something bad. Something bad with Harry. He's just too nice all of a sudden."

"No... Harry won't hurt me again. Stop it."

"I won't stop it. He can't be trusted. Every time you try to trust him, he fools you. You're being very gullible as always, but it's bound to happen again."

"You don't know that." Zayn covers his ears as if it would stop his brain from talking to him.

"Zayn, you know it too. Please don't ignore this, or you're going to get hurt again."

"Leave me alone."

"Listen to me."

"No!"

"Zayn."

"NO! I SAID NO! LIES! I KNOW THEY'RE ALL LIES, SO JUST STOP IT! HE WON'T HURT ME! JUST... JUST GET OUT OF MY HEAD AND GO AWAY! I MEAN IT!

Zayn lays down sideways on his bed and pulls his knees to his chest. He cries silently to himself, and doesn't even bother to wipe his eyes.

A minute later, he hears his bedroom door open. His back is turned, but it can only be one person.

_Darn, I should've locked it._

"Zayn, are you alright? I heard screaming."

He scrambles for a lie and closes the journal so she can't see what he's been doing. "Yeah, I just had a nightmare. I was having a nightmare that something was going to happen to me. That's all." He figures that if he makes it sound like it's not a big thing, then she'll think it's minor too.

It works.

"Well okay... I'm going back to my bedroom then. I'm going back to sleep."

"Alright." he mumbles. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." And the door closes.

But nothing is alright and this is not a good night. Zayn feels sick. He feels nauseous. He can't believe his own brain has tried to make him scared of Harry again. His conscience is mistaken. It's got to be.


	49. 49

It isn't a shocker at all that Zayn elects to ignore his conscience and pretend that what happened to him a few nights ago didn't happen. It's also not a difficult task either. He's been doing this for a long time. He is quite the pro at it now.

He's been laying in Harry's bed snogging with Harry for fifteen minutes now. It's a lot of kissing sure, but Zayn doesn't mind it all. Plus, he's only kissing the part of Harry that's attractive to him, remember?

"Dad's gonna be home in a few minutes. He's not working late tonight." Harry mumbles.

Zayn looks at Harry's digital clock on his dresser. It's reading close to five o'clock. For the first time in a while, he doesn't want to go home.

"I think I'm always gonna love these glasses on you." Harry snickers.

"Oh." is all Zayn manages to get out before Harry engages him in yet, another passionate kiss.

Harry rolls on top of Zayn, trying not to put so much weight on him, and he runs his hand up the side of Zayn's shirt, just feeling his skin. "I love touching every part of you. I love it." That puts a really huge smile on Zayn's face and he's not really sure why. Any other time he'd hate Harry for saying something like that. So why not this time?

Maybe he isn't angry this time because Harry is actually being nice. Not forceful, not abusive and not controlling. He is touching him in all the right ways. He is saying all the right things.

Harry sits up in a way so that he's hovering him, and he keeps moving his hand so that he's pushing Zayn's shirt back and up to his chest. Zayn feels very comfortable with the kisses he leaves on his belly and it feels so good, he thinks his heart will explode. He's never really had butterflies in his stomach for anyone before. This is a first. And they seem to be rapidly getting worse in a good way.. Until it's all interrupted, by

_a stupid phone call..._

"Shit." Harry grunts and he rolls off the bed, to walk to his desk where his phone is both ringing and vibrating like crazy. He's hoping it's one of his friends so he can press 'Ignore' and call them back later. But when he sees the name, his heart stops a little.

He looks back at Zayn and takes a shaky breath.

"Just... stay here. Don't leave the room, alright?" he orders and Zayn nods, watching Harry take the phone and leave out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry quickly makes his way downstairs into the kitchen where he answers the call.

"Hello?"

"Hi there Harry. We're waiting. You promised us Zayn three weeks ago. Where is he?"

Harry rolls his eyes. "Be patient. Between school and everything, I had things to do. But he'll be yours soon."

"Aha, and have you tested the medicine?"

"Yep."

"Does it work?"

"Like a charm."

"So he won't be able to see our faces?"

"Not clearly enough to identify you. All he'll be able to do is recognize your voices. But there are people who can sound the same, so I wouldn't worry. And even if he happened to think he'd be able to identify you by your voice, the police would literally have to bring every man in the city down to the police station and get them to speak just to catch you. And even still, who's gonna be able to arrest you because of your voice? That's not solid evidence. Never has been. Never will. My dad tells me this stuff all the time. It's all he ever talks about."

The man on the other end hums and Harry can hear the smile in his voice. "Sounds like a winner then. But one more important question."

"Yeah?"

"He can't fight us back and you're sure of that? Cause the guys and I aren't going to try to bother with holding him down. We'll just let his ass run away and you won't get your money."

"Yes, I'm sure. Trust me. He couldn't even sit up on his own when I gave it to him, let alone be able to fight back or run away."

The man chuckles. "Well that's just unbelievably perfect. Now, when shall we expect it? When shall we expect Zayn?"

"In a couple of days... I promise."

"Do you still have the address I gave you?"

"Yeah. I've got it saved in my phone."

"Then meet me there at five o'clock. No later, no earlier and no excuses. Right?"

"Of course not." Harry smiles. "It's a done deal. But you should know I've got some other important stuff to do right now, so unfortunately I can't stay and chit chat with you all afternoon. You'll see me in two days alright? Then you can have your fun." he says.

"Harry Styles. It is a pleasure doing business with you. You are one sick little eighteen year old, you know that?"

Harry grins at the 'compliment'. "I've seen sicker."


	50. 50

Dr. Kershman sits across from Harry and studies his actions. She can see that he has come with a better attitude today. It's been so long since she's actually seen him this way. As a matter of fact, she's not sure if she's ever seen him like this.

"Harry. Something seems to have you so upbeat today, huh? "Yeah."

"Well I'll tell you what. It's the first Tuesday day of March though we're actually a few days in. Here. Take my clipboard and my pen, and write down how you feel."

Harry gladly takes the clipboard from her and scribbles something down on it. When he gives it back to her, she reads it out loud as always.

"'I want to do what you told me.'" She looks up at him. That's not exactly how he feels, but it's more words than he's written in a long time, and she's curious to know what it is he's willing to do since it's not often he actually listens to her. "And what is that?"

"What you told me two weeks ago. I want a partner, a boyfriend."

"And you are serious about that?"

"Yes."

"Ah, and what about this..." she refers to her clipboard. "...this Zayn Malik boy? Is he still available?"

"Yes. Sort of. But I'm gonna tell him that I really like him. I just need a few weeks or so to get myself together," _and get all of this stuff I've been doing to him out of the way..._ "and then I'll be ready."

She smiles. "I'm really proud of you Harry. "I don't know what's happening but you're finally taking strides in the right direction. I like it."

"Thanks."

"So what are your plans then, you know... once you tell him how you feel? Because you graduate soon."

Harry shrugs. "I want everything to be right. That's all. I don't want him to get hurt by anyone again. I'm done watching him get hurt." _And I'm done hurting him._

_Done._

"Well, that sounds very nice Harry. And like I told you, it's going to work. If you just trust me on this, you are going to feel so much better. I know it."

Harry nods and looks down at the toes of his boots. He knows it too.


	51. 51

Harry lays at home in his bed scrolling through the pictures on his phone. He sighs when he comes across the pictures he was looking for.

The naked pictures of Zayn.

He'd only taken pictures of Zayn on two different occasions. The first time, when he simply took pictures of him laying naked on the bed, and the second time when he took a few of Zayn after he'd carved his name into his leg. However, it's the second set of pictures, that ultimately start to make him upset. So without hesitation, he selects every photo of Zayn in his camera roll and deletes them, knowing he'll never be able to see them or use them against Zayn again.

But that's not all. Harry remembers the video he has of Zayn in his camcorder. That needs to be deleted too. So he gets up, opens the drawer to his nightstand and takes the camcorder out of it. He picks it up and turns it on and when it powers on all the way, he immediately goes to his gallery to delete the video. He doesn't even want to watch it. He just wants it gone and wants it gone forever.

After he's deleted it, he returns his camcorder to it's place and lays out on his bed. He's done it. He's successfully gotten rid of all those things that Zayn has feared he would share with the world.

He knows he had many more things planned for Zayn. He knows he had many more things that he will never ever show Zayn. But he doesn't care about that anymore. He doesn't care about scarring him, or making him do all the things his father made him do to him. He just wants Zayn to be his, with nobody there to make fun of him and no one to tease him for it.

He believes it can happen. And he is sure it will happen one day.

As he goes over all the day's events in his head, he's reminded of something horrible that's going to happen to Zayn tomorrow. Zayn doesn't know, but it will change his life forever. And even though Harry knows he'll be the cause of all of that happening, he hopes this will be the last time Zayn will ever have to suffer on his watch.


	52. 52

It's 5 o'clock.

No early. No later. And no excuses.

Harry looks at the abandoned warehouse and cringes at the thought of everything that's more than likely going to happen in here. Everything that happened to him with his dad "Zayn, are you ready to get out?" Harry asks squeezing Zayn's thigh.

"Where are we?" he replies weakly.

"I can't tell you. So don't ask."

"Harry. I can't see... It's just like last time... Everything's blurry... Harry I don't like when you drug me." Zayn continues to lay against the headrest, unable to take off his own seatbelt. So Harry takes it off as well as his own. Once they're off, he gets out of the car and walks around to Zayn's side. His heart is beating like crazy.

Zayn turns to the door when it opens and is startled when Harry lifts him out of the car so that he's carrying him. One of Zayn's arm tries to wrap around his neck, but it's difficult to stay up, so it just falls back down.

Harry uses his back to bump into the door and close it, then shakily makes his way toward the warehouse. When he gets to the old warehouse door, he kicks it. He doesn't even have to wait 10 seconds before someone is answering the door. Standing there, is a man that seems to be in his very late thirties or really early forties. Harry has never learned his age, but he knows this guy; knows where he lives.

"Harry has brought our prize boys!" He yells. And Harry hears male voices in the background of those he doesn't recognize.

"Here's Zayn. What are you going to do with him?"

The man takes Zayn from him. "Why don't you come in and see?"

"No." Harry answers rather quickly. "Just... Just do what you told me you were going to do. No extras understand?"

"You're not gonna join in?"

"No. I-I've got things to do."

"Sure, you do." The man puts Zayn down and lets him lean against him. "Here's your money." He takes a wad of money from his pocket and tries to give it to Harry.

"I don't want it. Just keep it."

"A freebie? Thanks." and he puts it back in his pocket. "What time do you want him back?"

"What time will you be finished?"

"How long does the medicine work?"

"It will last for about an hour and a half, then it will start to wear off."

The guy chuckles very nastily. "We'll just call you when we have finished then."

"Remember, no extras." Harry warns.

"We know what to do."

"Harry." Zayn calls and he reaches out for him.

"I have to go Zayn. I'll be back later." And Harry turns away from him.

"No Harry take me... take me with you."

"You can't go with him." The man says. "You're gonna be here with us. We're gonna have a little fun."

"No. I don't want to."

"You don't have a choice." He closes the door and drags Zayn back through the warehouse. Zayn can't see where he is very clearly, but he listens to the way the voices echo off the wall, and he knows he isn't in a very large room. Neither is it small.

"This one looks like a good one." he hears.

"Yes, I know. Who would have thought Harry would get us something this good looking?"

"I can't wait to see him naked. Zayn frowns. "What?"

The man holding him, suddenly pushes Zayn forward so that he goes face flat onto something soft.

Zayn feels it with his hands and he can see that it's white or cream. He makes it out to be a mattress.

_Okay, where am I? Why the hell is there a mattress here?_

When Zayn turns over and onto his back, he feels his shoe laces being undone. A minute later, his boots are coming off.

"What's going on?" Zayn asks. "Why are my shoes off?"

"Because we can't take all your clothes off if your shoes are still on."

Zayn's eyes go wide and when he feels the others crawling onto the mattress and over to him, he has a strange feeling as to what's about to happen to him. So he tries to avoid it by telling them, " Stop." But just like the first time when Harry drugged him, he is too weak to scream or panic.

The men grab hold of him, and all at once, they start to rip at his clothing. They pull down his pants and his underwear, tossing it to the side and they take off his jacket. They tear off his button up plaid shirt so swiftly and carelessly, that two buttons come loose from his shirt. As soon as he is naked, hands roam his body touching all the places they can reach.

"Please, no. Don't do this." Zayn weakly tries to move someone's hand, but somebody swats it away and grabs his chin hard forcing Zayn to face him.

"Unfortunately, you can't tell us what to do. You're only sixteen and we're the adults, remember? So just lay there and try to enjoy it, because we sure as hell are."

The others laugh when the man slaps his cheek. Then for a few minutes, no one touches him. He knows why though. He can't make out their faces clearly, but he can see they are undressing and getting out of their own clothes.

"Get that long rag over there so I can tie his hands." Zayn hears. It's the voice of the guy who drug him in here and he is down in front of Zayn on his knees.

"I thought we were only going to tie his hands and stuff, if the medicine wasn't as good as Harry said it was. Look at how weak this boy is. He can't hurt a fly."

"I don't give a fuck how weak he looks. I want to have some fun with him. Now... If you want to have fun as well, we have to make things interesting. We only have him for an hour and a half. Give me the rag like I asked, so I can tie his hands together."

Zayn sees the man get up and go over to a corner and when he comes back, his hands are quickly being tied together with some kind of long, thin, rag-like material. It's unfamiliar. And it also stinks.

"Good. That's all we will use. For now..." the man says breathlessly and he leans down and kisses Zayn's belly button. His lips feel hard, crusty, dirty. Zayn cringes.

"If I were you, I'd stop being so scared and just get ready Zayn. We have you for at least ninety minutes. At least."

"No." Zayn says as tears begin to fall from his eyes for the first time. "Where's... Where's Harry? Where did he go?"

"Harry isn't going to save you little boy. Don't forget. He is the one who brought you to us."

Zayn's whole body seemingly goes into shock at those words and for some reason, his conscience begins to kick in. He's remembering the things it told him, the things it warned him of, and he's understanding that everything it was telling him was right all along. Harry cannot be trusted.

One of the guys who is at his head, takes Zayn's bound hands and pulls them back over his head so that they are touching the mattress. Two or three hands run over his chest and over his nipples and all Zayn does is close his eyes and except what's coming. It's really all he's able to do.

This is when he sees that everything he was only suspicious of in the beginning, is now confirmed:

1) He knows what's about to happen to him.

and 2) Despite the fact that he's aware they are about to have their way with him sexually, there is nothing he can do about it.


	53. 53

Harry gets a text at 6:56 telling him they've finished with Zayn. So without a reply, he leaves his home, gets in the car and drives back to the abandoned warehouse. It takes him about 20 minutes to get there and it's so dark outside, he has to rely on the headlights of his car. As he pulls in the old parking lot, his lights shine on a body that is slumped against the warehouse door. He's a hundred percent sure that it's Zayn.

He leaves the car running, opens the door and jumps out of the car to go towards him. As he nears, he sees Zayn's pants are unzipped as if they had just thrown them on. His shirt is unbuttoned and his jacket isn't zipped either. Zayn's eyes open slightly, to look at him. That's a relief. He's not dead. But that's not all he sees. He sees blood running from Zayn's nose and there's blood all over his mouth too.

"Zayn, oh shit. What happened?!" Harry looks around to see that there are no cars in the lot anymore. Those bastards had left him. They did more than they were told to do, and then they left him like cowards. Harry's lips tighten in anger as he carefully scoops the younger boy up and into his arms. Zayn winces in pain, so Harry knows he's hurting somewhere.

He races back to the car and lays him down on the back seat this time. Once he's laid out properly, Harry bolts around the car to the driver's seat. He knows he can't take him to the hospital without getting himself in serious trouble, so he speeds home as fast as he can. He wants to get there before his foster dad does, because he's sure there will be questions if he sees Zayn like this.

The moment he reaches home, he bursts into the door, kicks it closed and runs upstairs toward the hall bathroom that he always uses. He sits Zayn down on the floor and begins to undress him while running hot water for a bath. That's when he notices Zayn reeks of urine horribly. He doesn't have to be there to know what they did to him.

Though it's been over two hours since he drugged him and Harry knows the medicine has worn off by now, he doesn't complain about not getting any help from Zayn when it comes to taking off his clothes. He can tell his limbs are weak right now. And his limbs are weak not as a result of the medicine, but because he's in pain and doesn't want to move them.

Zayn's shirt is the last thing to come off and when it's off, Harry instantly goes from angry, to out for blood. For one thing, there is dried semen all over his stomach and chest which he's sure is from those men. But another thing is that there are these marks that go all across his back and on two of them, the flesh is open and bleeding.

He's pretty sure they beat him with something. It looks like they may have used a whip or a really thin cord. He hates that he has to touch them, but it's the only way he can properly put Zayn in the tub.

Once Zayn is in, he lays his head against the back of it and closes his eyes. Right now, he can't think straight. He can't form a coherent thought. He can see Harry, he can yell, he can holler, he can scream, he can do all the things he couldn't do a couple of hours ago. But Zayn is tired. He's worn out. And honestly this bath will probably do the open sores on his back some justice.

Harry ends up cleaning Zayn for close to 45 minutes and afterward, he takes him to his room and lays him naked in his bed under the covers. He doesn't know exactly what he's thinking about, but he has a pretty good idea of what it is. It's the same things he was thinking of when it happened to him: shame, worthlessness, pain.

Thinking of those 3 words, nearly push his own memories up to the forefront. But he blocks them out before they even start and looks down at Zayn, whose eyes are having a hard time staying open. He can tell he's sleepy. The bath has done him good. Well, that and because he probably cried an awful lot in the last two hours.

"Alright Zayn. I'm gonna be back later on tonight. I just... need to go take care of some business right now." He goes over to his dresser and puts a ring on every finger that doesn't already have one, except his thumbs. "I want you to sleep. And I want you to sleep as well as you can. I promise you, someone is gonna pay for what they did to you if it's the last thing I-" He stops because when he turns around, Zayn is already sleeping.

He doesn't make too much noise as he steps out of his room and closes the door behind him. But the moment he leaves out of his house and gets into his car, he lets out a scream that no one else can hear.

Harry is more than upset. He is hot with anger. Nothing in the world can stop him from doing what he is about to do. Zayn may have been asleep when he said those words, but he means every word he said.

Someone is going to pay for what they did to him.


	54. 54

Harry stands outside a door at an apartment building. On it, is an address that reads "25B". He's been here before, so he knows it's the right place. He knocks on the door and wiggles his fingers to loosen them.

The door opens and it's the same guy who answered the door at the warehouse.

"Ah, Harry. I'm guessing you changed your mind and want your money anyway?"

"I don't want your fucking money." Harry snarls.

"Okay, no need to curse at me. If you don't want my money, then why the hell are you even at my-"

He can't even finish his words because Harry's hand is around his throat and he's backing him up into his apartment. "You son of a bitch!" he yells throwing him down.

"Harry, what the hell man?!"

He slams the door closed. "Don't you dare play dumb with me you asshole! I gave you clear instructions! I said no extras and you went and hurt him anyway! You busted his nose and his lip, you whipped him, you fucking pissed all over him and then you left him out there alone in the dark like he didn't mean shit!"

Harry stands looking down at him. His fists are tight.

The man studies him for a bit, then chuckles as he stands back up on his feet. "Oh relax. Don't be a drama queen when you really don't know what happened. We all had a part. Not just me." He rubs his neck where Harry grabbed it. "Zayn was just perfect for us, you know. Everybody got to fuck him. I went first, so he was nice and tight for me."

"Shut up, you piece of shit."

"What? I'm just saying. Wouldn't you like to know you gave us good quality? Wouldn't you like to know how easy it was to hold his head back by those luscious, dark locks and cum in his mouth? He swallowed every bit of it after we threatened to kill him."

"I said shut up!"

"Or what, huh?" the man challenges. "You're just pathetic... Weak. It's funny how you're the one who gave him to us, and now you're upset because we did what you allowed us to do. You're just like the rest of us Harry."

"No I'm not! I'm not like you! I wouldn't beat a sixteen year old until he bleeds when I know he's physically unable to fight back. You're a fucking coward for that!"

"Okay... let me guess. You're only doing this because you like the boy. Right? Because I don't see why it would even matter so much to you if he was just a little sex object."

"Fuck off." It's a warning voice.

"Fuck off what? Are you upset that I called him a sex object? Are you mad that Zayn knows what somebody's dick, other than yours, tastes like?"

Harry's fists close tighter than before as the man continues to speak. "Well, how about this. Even if Zayn wakes up a month from now completely healed and he doesn't remember the way I taste, which is... pretty damn good, I won't give a fuck. Because seeing you like this now, makes it all so worth it."

Upon hearing that, Harry immediately charges at him and tackles him to the ground then sits on top of him. Fist after fist connects with the man's face and the man can hardly aim upward to hit Harry back. Harry's punches get harder and harder and as he looks down at this man, he realizes he reminds him so much of his father. Harry hates his father. His father terrorized him for so many years before he went to jail. This is just like getting revenge on the man who scarred him. This feels really good Harry continues to hit him until he sees blood splattering. It's really the only thing that makes him stop. He quickly stands up, bags away and up against the wall. He sees it's the man who's bleeding, because blood is spilling from his nose. He's also dazed and can barely sit up. Harry has to look at his hands wondering if he really did that. The blood that covers his knuckles tells him he did. And it also tells him that the rings he put on for this very purpose, did the job.

Suddenly the door to the apartment bursts open and a bald man enters. "Dude, I got the beers... What the heck happened?!" When he goes to sit the six pack down and help his friend, he sees Harry.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" But when he looks down at his bloody hands and puts two and two together, he grabs Harry's collar and jacks him up against the wall.

"You did this, didn't you?! You stupid motherfucker!" He raises his fist and brings it back. "I swear I'm going to-"

"-Stop! Don't hit him!"

The bald man turns toward the other guy while still holding Harry firmly. "What do you mean don't hit him? Look at yourself! This boy just fucked up your face!"

The man lazily waves a hand in their direction. "If his dad sees him hurt and he finds out it was because of us, we'll all go to jail for sure. His dad's a cop. Just let him go."

When the bald man hears the three letter word, he turns back to Harry gritting his teeth. "You better be glad. I swear I was gonna beat your ass. Now get out of here before I do it anyway." He let's go of his collar roughly, then pushes Harry away from him. Harry scrambles out of the open door and out to his car.

*

*

*

When Harry gets home, his foster dad is in the living room sitting in front of the TV and eating a microwave dinner. Harry hears him say something that sounds much like a "welcome home" though it's a much longer greeting. He assures his father he is home safe and unharmed before he's tells him he's tired and he slips upstairs to the bathroom to wash the blood that has dried up all over his rings and fingers.

When everything is clean and there is no trace of blood, Harry tiptoes into his room to find Zayn undisturbed. He sits the wet rings out on his dresser and strips down to his underwear and socks. Afterward, he tosses his dirty clothes out of the way and in the corner, then slides in the bed behind Zayn. He wants to cuddle the boy in front of him, but he stays far away enough, so he doesn't rub up against his back and irritate his wounds.

"I got him back for you Zayn." he whispers. "From now on, you are my princess, and only mine. Nobody is going to hurt you again. Not even me.


	55. 55

Harry wakes up the next day, and finds that the space Zayn is supposed to occupy, empty.

He jumps out of bed in a panic and bursts out of his room, running through the house in his underwear. By the time he searches all the rooms upstairs as well as the rooms downstairs, he finds that the clothes Zayn had on yesterday are gone and there is no sign of him anywhere.

He goes back upstairs, sits on his bed and runs his hands through his hair. He has a feeling about what happened. Zayn probably woke up, saw Harry, remembered what happened and he got dressed and ran away. Harry's mouth twitches at the thought of it.

He looks over at his clock. It's almost 12 o'clock in the afternoon. Last night he purposefully didn't set his alarm clock with the intent of staying home from school to finish taking care of Zayn. But it looks like that all turned out to be for nothing now.

A bit of anger flashes over his eyes as he thinks about the reason Zayn was even here in the first place. If those men hadn't have beat him, he would have taken Zayn home right after and that would have been it. Now Harry is clueless of how Zayn is, what he feels, or anything. He wants to know. Because he wants to take care of him.

He has a thought about going over to Zayn's home and knocking on his door, but then again he figures it's good to leave him alone today. For now, he can just sit in bed and wonder what he's doing.

_What... is he doing?_


	56. 56

Zayn has been brushing his teeth and his tongue for twenty minutes. That's what he's been doing.

He can't get the taste of six different men out of his mouth, no matter how much toothpaste and mouthwash he uses and no matter how hard he tries. In fact, he's been brushing so hard and for so long, his tongue burns and his gums have bled three times.

Now, is the last time he's going to brush his teeth, so he spits out the toothpaste and gargles with a small amount of mouthwash. He guesses this is probably the cleanest his mouth has ever gotten. But even then, it still feels dirty.

After he rinses his toothbrush off, he puts it back and then turns on the water for a bath. He remembers having been washed by Harry yesterday, but that won't stop Zayn from taking another one. He feels too filthy right now, too unclean.

He can still feel their hands all over his body. He can feel their hands pressing down on his waist and pulling his legs back to hold him in place as they took turns shoving their fingers and private parts inside of him. He hears their voices as they threatened to burn him alive where he was if he wouldn't swallow, and it makes him mentally gag as he thinks about the way they grabbed his hair and laughed at him when he choked on them. He feels uneasy knowing these men forced him to have more than one orgasm and he tries to forget the numerous amount of sex toys they had brought and used on him. And then when he thinks about whatever it was they used to hit him across his back, he just wants to hide from the world, and cry.

So he does.

When his bath water is ran and he's sitting in the tub, he buries his face in his hands.

"I'm so dirty." he says aloud to himself through his tears. "No wonder everyone hates me."

And then for a while that is the way he sits in the tub. He is truly convinced that no one could ever or would ever love him for that very reason. And if that's the case, then why even bother living?


	57. 57

It's Monday.

A week and a half later.

Harry hasn't seen Zayn since that night he bathed him and put him to bed. At first he was having mixed feelings about seeing Zayn because he didn't know if he really wanted to see him at school grimacing from the pain. But now after having not seen him for this long, he is sure he wants to see him. At least to make sure he's doing okay...

Harry jumps when he hears a screeching whistle in his ear. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Get out of La La Land Styles. You can always dream about her on your own time. You're on my time now."

"Oh, I'm sorry Coach. W-what am I supposed to be doing?"

"What do you mean 'what am I supposed to be doing'? Can't you see the rest of the team has started their lap around the field?"

"Oh, right. I'm sorry I-"

"-Move it!" Harry jumps again, but starts his lap. His mind can't help but wander back to Zayn though, as he passes the soccer net and speeds up to catch up with his three friends.


	58. 58

"You still haven't explained to me how you got that cut on your lip." Zayn's mother says to him on Friday. Its been two weeks and two days since he was raped at the abandoned warehouse.

"It's... It's almost healed now." he speaks gently. He doesn't want her to explode on him "Why does that matter? It still doesn't tell me how it got there."

He looks down at his plate of food which has barely been touched despite the fact that they're more than halfway through dinner. "Mom it's nothing. It's just... I got in a fight." he lies.

He jumps when she hits the table. "Fighting at school?! I knew something was up! You need to explain yourself right now!"

_So much for not wanting her to explode._

Zayn sits back in the chair slowly, careful not to hurt his back which is still healing. He hasn't told her about what happened, so she doesn't know. He wants to keep it that way. He has a feeling that because of the way she is, her reason for freaking out on him won't be because he didn't tell her he was hurt or that he was raped. She'd probably end up being more upset at the simple fact that he even had sex with those men and he'd be out of the house in no time.

"Zayn Malik!" She spits angrily, but then she allows her voice to calm a bit. "You need to explain something to me. Why did I get a call from your teacher today saying you haven't been to school in two weeks? Is it because of the fight?"

Zayn's whole body freezes. She hadn't known he hadn't been to school since the rape, because she always left for work very early and came back very late. "I-I was-"

She interrupts him. "-Did you know you are failing your Algebra Ⅱand History classes now?"

"No ma'am." But Zayn had seen it coming. Trying to keep up with Harry is proving to be a fulltime job. It's hard. He always did his homework and classwork, but Zayn doesn't think his brain was ever really in it. So he's sure that most, if not all the assignments he's ever turned in to the teacher has been half done or incorrect since the day Harry took his virginity in the school locker room.

"I'm not going to have a stupid child in my house. You're going to have at least a high school education. If I let you think it's okay, you'll start to accept it. Then the next thing I know, you'll be an internet porno rubbing private parts with a bunch of horny homosexuals for money."

Zayn's heart aches. "Please mom."

"Don't you dare tell me please. You are going to take your butt to school on Monday. Do you understand? If you're hiding at home from the person who busted your lip then you need to tell the principal. Your education is way more important than temporarily saving your face."

She forked some macaroni and put it in her mouth. Zayn doesn't understand how she can be so cruel and harsh all the time. Of course he had figured out she didn't really care about him a while back and he learned to stop expecting her to care. But this... this is like the final confirmation. This is like the stamp that seals his fate. The one that explains how suicide has now, more than ever, become his only answer. He's coming to a conclusion that he's been right since he was 13 years old.

Anything is worse than death.

Especially living.


	59. 59

When Monday rolls around, Zayn sits in class with his head down. He knows everyone else knows he hasn't been to school in a little over two weeks, but he feels like that isn't the reason some of them are looking at him. He feels like they know about him; like they know what happened two Wednesdays ago and he feels like they are laughing at him because of it.

This happens in every morning class he goes to, and by lunch Zayn is scared to death. And he is even more afraid when he feels someone grab hold of his arm as he's on his way to the cafeteria. He's about to scream his lungs out and try to run away, until he sees that it's Harry. So he doesn't put up a fight. He just allows himself to be dragged away.

They don't stop until Harry pulls him into the locker room. When the door is closed and locked, Harry takes off his backpack and pulls Zayn so close to him, the front of their bodies are touching. He looks at the boy in front of him wondering how he managed to go without seeing him for two and a half weeks. He really missed Zayn. So without a second thought, he tries to kiss him accordingly.

However, the feel of Harry's lips disgust Zayn so much, that instead of making himself kiss back, he turns his head sideways twisting his face.

"Wha... what are you doing Zayn?" Harry asks staring at him. He is legitimately confused. Zayn always kisses back "Please Harry."

Harry has a wave of frustration come over him. "What?"

"I don't want to kiss you right now."

"What do you mean you don't want to kiss me? How can you not want to kiss me?" Harry stares questioningly down at the boy who won't look at him.

Zayn pulls away slowly, afraid to explain to Harry his reason for not wanting to kiss him. He can't trust him. He's afraid he'll get hurt again. "I-I don't feel good right now. So c-can I go back please?"

Harry doesn't want him to go. He wants Zayn to stay there so they can kiss. He wants Zayn to stay and sit with him on the bench and hear all about how he got that man back for letting his friends hurt him the way they did.

But he knows the only way he can possibly get Zayn to do both of those things right now, is if he threatens him or hurts him in some way that will force him to stay. But Harry doesn't want to hurt him. He said he would never do it again. So he just nods his head slightly, then lets Zayn unlock the door and walk out without another word.


	60. 60

The next day, Harry sits in Dr. Kershman's office across from her. She already has in mind what she wants to talk about today, but she sees something isn't right. Harry looks a bit down. He looks downhearted and depressed and she wants to know why.

"Harry are you alright? You seem a little off right now."

He doesn't answer. He just sits there staring off at the window behind her.

"Well, I'm not going to continue with therapy today until I know what's wrong. I need to know if whatever is going on in your brain is going to effect all this good progress you've been making lately. Because if it is, we need to get to the bottom of it now." She sits the clipboard down, so as to try to make this more personal, and less about his medical issues. "You know you can trust me with anything and anything you tell me, is confidential. It always has been."

Harry nods and speaks quietly. "I know that."

"Then will you tell me?"

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, but she notices the way he perks up. "Yeah but... there's nothing to tell. I just have a question."

She hums. "Go ahead then. Ask it."

It takes him a moment to get his thoughts together so that he doesn't give away any information he doesn't want to give away. "How do you get somebody to forgive you if you've done something to hurt them?"

To say her heart beats fast, is truly and understatement. But she still keeps cool. "What do you mean? What have you done Harry?"

"I only did it because someone hurt me first. That is all Dr. Kershman. Please I... I just want to know what do because I really want the one I hurt to forgive me. What should I do?"

She gives him a warm expression so he doesn't end up running away, although deep inside, she's dying to know what he's talking about. "Based on my past experiences, it's a three step process you have to follow."

"Three steps?"

"Yes. But don't worry. I'm sure you can do them." She clears her throat. "First, you have to forgive the one who hurt you. So that means whatever happened to you, you have to let it go and you cannot hold a grudge against them. You stop being bitter, you stop being angry and then you let it go.

"Secondly, you have to forgive yourself. If you expect someone to forgive you, you have to first start with yourself so that you don't think about it anymore. Regret, guilt and low self confidence is a killer. It leads to anxiety and depression.

"Now, lastly, and this is very important... You have to go to the person you hurt and you have to make peace with them. Which means you'll need to apologize. And it takes a humble person to apologize. Don't be fooled though. Once you do your part, it is still ultimately up to them to forgive you. But the main thing that I am positive of, you will feel more at ease with yourself, regardless of the decision they make."

Harry's eyebrows crinkle. "So it only takes those three steps?"

"Yep. Only three. Do you think you can do that?"

Harry thinks about the first step. The one that seems like the most difficult of them all. "Yeah, I guess I can try. But it's going to be so hard."

She smiles at him, completely forgetting she was eager to want to know why he asked that question in the first place. "I have faith in you Harry. Since the day I met you, I've always had faith in you."


	61. 61

Friday has come around again. Now it has been 3 weeks and 2 days since Harry had left Zayn with those men. After his visit with Dr. Kershman, Harry had gone home that Tuesday to ponder the three steps she had given him. As much as he thought it would be extremely difficult at first, it didn't take long to make his mind over. So now, after he's just left the first soccer match of the Spring season, he finds himself here, inside the city jail located about 25 miles from where he lives.

"He will be at window five soon." the guard says in a stern voice to Harry, and he waits just inside the door to let him walk on his own, down past each little opening in the visitation area.

Harry notices that each station only has two things: A phone, and a gray stool which non surprisingly, matches the dull walls. He's only seen something like this in the movies, and he always found it hard to imagine how it must be for the visitor when they realize they have to go through a full body search and scan, just to get in here and see there's bulletproof fiberglass between them. But as he takes his seat at window 5 and looks at where his father will be sitting, everything makes sense. It's overwhelming to think about.

After sitting for a minute or so, he hears a buzzer off to the right, coming from the other side of the glass. By the sound of it, he recognizes it's the sound that signals a door is about to open. He's right. Because 4 seconds later, he hears the faint sound of chains jiggling and another guard is standing in front of him holding firm to his father's arm, directing him to sit on the stool.

There are a few things Harry notices about his father then. Things he's never seen, or imagined seeing. First, he sees that his dad has cut all of his hair off. He's bald now. He still looks the same for the most part, but Harry only remembers him with hair and he remembers his father saying he never wanted to go bald. Prison must have changed his mind. Secondly, Harry knows his hands are cuffed, but he realizes that the chain-like sound that he heard are shackles on his feet. More than likely so he can't so easily run away. And third, the jumpsuit he's wearing, isn't orange as TV often portrayed all jumpsuits to be, but a horrible navy blue color. It doesn't suit him. But then again it's jail. Nothing has to suit him.

When he notices his father pick up the phone on his side, so does he. It's quiet before anyone speaks.

"Harry..." his father says. "It took six years and you're finally here, huh? Oh wait. It's March. That means you're 18 now. How about that? A big boy."

Harry stares at him and when his father sees he's not speaking yet, he continues. "You see this hell hole they put me in because of you? Literally, it's a hole. I stay in solitary confinement away from everyone else. I do get one hour of recreation everyday though. But it's spent by myself and then when it's over, it's back to the cave. Ha... Can you believe it? I've got this for 24 more years. They say it will save my life because other inmates don't take too kindly when you fuck your own kid. But they may as well put me in general population and let them kill me. Because I'm probably going to be dead by the time my sentence ends anyway right?"

Harry can feel his heart split when he sees his father's sly smile.

"So what brings you here after all this time Harry? Why you want to see me for? I bet it's just to laugh at me, so you can get your feel of finally seeing me in jail. You always wanted that didn't you? Yeah, I know."

Harry is still quiet.

"Listen boy, why aren't you talking? I could have stayed where I was if I knew you were just gonna sit here and look at me. What the hell do you want? Harry sits up and leans over the small counter. He only wants to know one thing right now. "I want to know why? Why did you do it? Why did you do all those things to me?"

Now it's his father's turn to be quiet. He just stares at his son blankly.

"Just a moment ago, you couldn't close your mouth. But what?... All of a sudden, you can't talk now?" Harry asks.

His father's lips purse and then he opens his mouth to speak. "Yes, I can talk. I did it because I felt that I could." he simply says.

"And what gave you the right to think that way? What in your fucked up head told you that touching me like that was right?"

Harry's father frowns. "Hey, don't you curse at me. I may be in jail, but I am still your father. You got it?"

"Shut up." Harry says as mild anger temporarily takes over him. "You are not my father. My father is at work protecting the city from people like you. He is a real father." Knowing that he has finally, officially disowned his father to his face, Harry puts his elbow on the counter, leans into his hand, then sighs very heavily. His father knows he's crying, but he stays quiet and watches him through the glass.

"I was six." Harry mumbles as his lips quiver. "I was six years old when you first started touching me. How could you do that to me? How could you treat me the way you treated me?"

"Let's get one thing straight. No matter what I did or said, I still loved you Harry-."

"-Stop it!" Harry yells and his lips tighten. "You did not love me. If you loved me, you wouldn't have made me do all those filthy things with you. If you loved me, you would have never given me to those men. I was eleven and you let them hurt me! And then you took money from them after you let them have their fun. You are sick."

His father fidgets. "Listen, I was the only parent you had. Be grateful. Your so called mother was too worried about her addiction to care about you."

"Be grateful? What world are you living in? And you stop talking about her. Regardless of what you say, she was still my mother. I know she would have done better with help. Do not say things like that."

"Still your mother?! No, all she is, is the woman who gave birth to you. You don't even know her. You can't even remember her. But I do. She didn't give a shit about you Harry. That pathetic little slut left us alone. Left me alone with you. Mothers don't do that."

"But fathers don't shove a knife into their own kid's arm or force them to give them hand jobs you son of a bitch."

His father begins to justify himself. "When that woman left, it was you who kept me from having a sex life. No woman wanted a man who already had a kid. So I used you instead to satisfy my pleasurable needs. And I only gave you to those men because we needed the money. You should be delighted that you were able to please me in so many ways, while helping us keep a roof over our head."

"Delighted? Are you fucking crazy?! You don't understand what you did to me! You changed my life! I have been going to therapist after therapist because of you. You scarred me forever in every way imaginable. And because of you..." There's a pause and a sniffle. "I can't even tell this boy I like him, because I know that once I tell him, I won't even know how to show him I like him in the right way. All I know is everything you've ever done to me and that isn't right."

"Him? Oh so you're gay now?" He laughs obnoxiously, completely unfazed by Harry's little breakdown. "You know, I heard that little boys who get sexually abused have a greater chance of growing up to be a homosexual, but I did not expect to have a living example sitting right in front of me. Wow. But by no means should you ever feel embarrassed. You know how to please a man. I taught you almost everything. You were such a good little boy when you would pay close attention, remember?"

"Stop it." Harry mumbles and he shakes his head at those memories, uncontrollably spilling tears.

But his father continues. "Sometimes it haunts me that you were only twelve when I got put in here. Because you were still too young and we never got to do certain things that I really wanted to do with you. But when I first came in here, I used to get myself off to the memories we were able to make."

"Stop, right now."

"I used to imagine that my hands were yours. But it was so hard, honestly. Because my hands were way too rough. Did you know you had soft hands like your mother?"

"No. Don't talk about me in that way anymore. I'm sick of it."

"Why? Face it Harry. Face the truth. You did those things with me for six years. You're 18 now and you turned out to be a faggot just like the statistics said you would. I wouldn't be surprised if in a year, you turn out to be one of those little gay man whores who'll sleep with anybody just to have sex. But if you do, just make sure you're both wearing condoms, okay? I wouldn't want you to catch anything."

"I SAID STOP IT, YOU PERVERT! YOU ARE A SICK, SICK MAN!" By now Harry has jumped up off the stool and began hitting at the glass. He's screaming with everything he has, tears still pouring heavily from his eyes. "YOU DESERVE TO DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME! YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO LIVE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

"Hey! It's time for you to leave sir!" the guard says to Harry, but he continues to scream.

"HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF A FATHER AFTER WHAT YOU DID?! YOU WERE AN EVIL, MANIPULATIVE AND MIND CONTROLLING PIECE OF SHIT! AND YOU STILL ARE!"

"You!" The guard is now coming his way at full speed ready to grab him.

"BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?! I FORGIVE YOU FOR EVERY SINGLE THING YOU HAVE EVER DONE TO ME! ALL OF IT!"

Arms pull at Harry. But Harry is resisting as hard as he can, refusing to let the phone go until he finishes what he has to say.

"I WON'T SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! I'M NOT GOING TO LET IT GET TO ME ANYMORE! I'M GOING TO LET GO, PUT IT ALL BEHIND ME AND LAUGH AT YOU WHILE YOU ROT IN PRISON!

"Let go of the phone now, before you break it! If you do, I will put you in jail for destroying property and that is a guarantee! Do you want that sir?!"

Immediately when Harry hears that, he stops to look at the guard. He doesn't say anything. He just stands terrified. He looks scared, broken, needy and truthfully, Harry doesn't really know what to do. He sits the phone down on the counter not worrying about placing it back on the hook, and he wipes his eyes with his shirt "Alright let's go." he mumbles. "I'm sick of looking at him anyway."

The guard grunts and begins to lead him from the visitation area and back toward the front of the jail.

Though Harry looks like he wants to be alone right now, he actually wants to fall into the guard's arms and cry into his uniform. But he knows it would be in vain because just like everyone else, this man won't understand his pain. This man will never know all he had to go through. He won't come close to knowing So he figures he'll just go home and seclude himself in his room. And then he'll figure out how he will go about accomplishing step 2.


	62. 62

Harry lays in bed later that night and all he can seem to think about is the face Zayn made when he didn't want to kiss him. That was the last time he talked to Zayn all week after he decided to leave him alone to himself. Even when they were at soccer practice and even when they were both at the game Though it hurts, Harry knows the real reason Zayn rejected him without fighting him isn't because he didn't feel good. It's because he is still scared that if anything happens, Harry's going to go off and tell his secret. He doesn't know Harry has deleted those pictures, or that video, or that he's said he wasn't going to hurt him anymore. Zayn's still blindly being submissive to him, and sad to say, Harry is okay with keeping it that way.

Harry really likes Zayn.

He has always liked him. He is the one who always called Zayn geeky whenever he saw him in those glasses. He's the one who would secretly admire Zayn while he was touching him in all those inappropriate places for two years straight. He's the one who actually enjoyed all the times he was able to have with Zayn this year, when he had gone beyond touching him, to flat out taking what he wanted, including his virginity. Only Harry did all those things. Zayn may think he was invisible all along, but he wasn't.

He was never invisible to Harry Harry is completely aware of everything he did. He knows he hurt Zayn. He knows he's fucked up his life to the point of no return, but he doesn't regret it at all. He doesn't feel any guilt either. In fact, he's quite proud of himself. He had put his mind to it for the past three years, and it paid off. He was able to hurt someone in all the ways his father hurt him: Physically, emotionally, and mentally.

 _What an accomplishment._ he thinks. Because he's fascinated by himself. He's in awe of all the things he was able to do to Zayn while successfully getting away with it. Maybe he's better at this than his father ever was. After all, he's not the one sitting in jail.

When Harry comes out of his thoughts, he realizes he's smiling devilishly and he has to make himself stop. Because the truth is, all the good things he's recently done is out of pure selfishness.

The only reason he forgave his father, though it felt really good in the end, is because he wants Zayn to forgive him so he can have him all to himself. It's also the only reason he beat up those men and why he deleted the blackmail pictures. Harry has always been about self. Everything has revolved around getting what he wanted no matter how others were effected.

So why would there be any reason to change his routine now?

There isn't.

Therefore, in less than 2½ minutes, he's turning over to get comfortable under his blankets. He's just forgiven himself completely without any hesitation or proper forethought. _Seriously? Two minutes?_ He can't believe just how easy that was.


	63. 63

Zayn steps out of the shower with a sigh. He has literally taken a hour long shower/bath every morning and night since he was touched by those six men. He's surprised his mother hasn't noticed. Maybe when the water bill comes in and she notices how high it is, then she'll say something. Until that time, Zayn will continue to do this as long as he feels dirty.

When he finishes drying himself off and is in a fresh pair of underwear, he trots down the hallway and into his room. This week of trying to avoid Harry at school has been awful. It has been burdensome and exhausting and Zayn is just so tired.

One thing that makes him feel better though, is that he's got a little less than a month before he takes his own life. He thinks about how many people who know they're going to die, like to live the rest of their lives to the fullest; to do everything they have always wanted to do before they no longer can. But he knows he won't even try to do that. He'll spend the rest of his life doing exactly what he's been doing. Being terrified of Harry Styles.

Zayn climbs in his bed because it's after 11 o'clock and it's time to sleep. Thank goodness it's Friday, which means he can stay in bed till about noon tomorrow, if he can manage to sleep that long. He's had very many restless nights.

He relaxes beneath the covers and closes his eyes. Just like all the other times, he doesn't need to think of anything calm or peaceful to send him to sleep. The shower has done enough to soothe him. It isn't long before he's drifting off into a deep slumber.


	64. 64

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

"Why has it been so long since I've seen you here Zayn?" the figure asks looking down at him.

Zayn is laying out in the field again with the wind blowing through his hair. This day is close to perfect "Because too much has been going on. Too many things that's made it impossible to sleep, let alone dream of this."

The figure nods sadly. "Yes I know."

Zayn plucks some of the grass and throws it off somewhere. "You were right though."

"Right about what?"

"About Harry. I should have never trusted him. I kept thinking things were gonna change, but every time, he would keep hurting me. I still can't believe I let him do that."

The figure sits down and pats his leg. "Don't be angry at yourself. You can't be angry at yourself."

"Yes I can." he states quietly.

"How?"

"Because... The only reason I ever let Harry do those things, is because it has to stay a secret. No one can know. Enough people say all kinds of things about me at school. Just imagine if along side that, everyone knew there was a homosexual on the school's soccer team that has been closeted for so long. I'll never hear the end of it." Zayn sighs and his lips begin to tremble. "Then look at my mother. She hates me."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. I see it in her face whenever she looks at me. She regrets me being born. And I think she only regrets it because she knows about me. But she doesn't want me to confirm that it's true."

"You think she knows you're a homosexual?"

"Yes and that's why she tries her best to stay far away from me. She's ashamed of me. But it's not much of a shock because I'm ashamed of myself too."

"Don't be. You cannot help who you fall in love with. You know that."

"But I'm not in love. Don't you understand that? I might not know what's really going on, but I know I'm not in love with anyone. I honestly think I'm just confused."

"But you literally just identified yourself as a homosexual. Why are you suddenly changing your mind? Plus, you can't be confused. You figured out you liked boys a long time ago, remember?"

"What if I was fooling myself though? What if I never liked boys? What if I just made myself think I did, so that I could possibly justify why I let Harry's touching me go on for so long. That's highly possible right?" But when Zayn repeats that to himself in his mind and hears how dumb it sounds, he buries his face in his hands. "Who am I kidding? I am a homo. And Harry was right. No one is ever going to want me."

The figure knows this kind of thinking can't be good. Zayn needs comforting. So it reaches out for him. It's in the middle of rubbing his hair when without forewarning, the blue sky turns ominously gray.

Because Zayn has his face in his hands, he can't see that the sky has changed. What actually grabs his attention is the sudden gust of wind. "What's going on?" He asks.

"I don't know. I was just about to ask you the same thing." As the clouds cover the sky in full, he hears voices rumbling to the left of him. When he turns around to see who they belong to, he sees there are six men coming his way. Like the figure, their faces are unknown and blurry. But as for their voices, they are clear as daylight. Zayn feels scared right away because he has heard them before. He knows who these men are. He knows what they want.

He looks around for a safe place to hide. But there is none. He's out in the open. So before he knows it, those men have reached them, surrounding them both. Two of them grab Zayn's arms and right when they touch him, he starts kicking and screaming.

"Let me go! Let me go now!" he turns to the figure. "Come help me! Don't let them take me away from here!"

As soon as he says that, a man looks down at him with an evil but dry laugh. "He's not going to help you Zayn. He's the one who told us you were here in the first place."

 _This feels almost like deja vu._ Zayn thinks as he looks toward the white figure who's standing up. And it makes him so angry. "How could you?! How could you do that to me?! How can you live with yourself?!"

But it doesn't take him long to figure out how or why it betrayed him, because the figure is gradually transforming into something that isn't so foggy and unrecognizable. It's transforming into Harry and he can see Harry staring back at him with a sneaky smirk on his face.

"Take him away," Harry orders pulling a matchbox from his pocket. "while I burn his precious little field to ashes."

"Burn? No! Don't! It's all I have. Please-"

But one of them covers his mouth very tightly and so compressed, that he can't even yell anymore. They don't waist time dragging him in the direction of which they came.

Zayn can't believe this. How have they gotten here, the only place in his life where he's ever felt secure? How did he allow them to enter his dreams? There is literally no other place he can go for comfort anymore, is there No.

Life hates him so much that it wants him to suffer in every aspect of it, doesn't it?

Yes. He's sure of it. There can be no other explanation.

This is when Zayn finally gives up. This is when he stops fighting them and trying to get them to stop.

He just settles in their touch. And he helplessly watches as Harry scrapes the match against the side of the box and light those beautiful grass blades on fire.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...


	65. 65

Zayn wakes up from his nightmare hiccupping for air and shaking with fear. He's crying hysterically.

"I don't have anything left..." He says to himself in a low voice. "Everything I ever had is gone, except me now." He turns on his lamp and sits up bringing his knees to his chest "What? What do you mean, Zayn?" It's the voice in his head. Surprisingly this time, as opposed to other times, it's welcomed.

"Didn't you see? Didn't you see why I don't have a right to live? There's no reason for me to live for anymore. I don't belong or fit in anywhere... I can't be here."

"Why would you say that?"

"The world is a cruel place. Only the strong people survive in it. I wasn't strong enough to survive in it. I'm still not and I never will be."

"That can't be any father from the truth. If you just stand up for yourself-"

"-Stop saying that, please. I can't do that. I don't know how to do it and it's too late learn. I'm just going to be a weak and pathetic sixteen year old boy, whose mother hates him. I'm going to have to live the rest of my life knowing I was raped and beaten by six grown men. I don't want that. I don't want to go through that. I'm just tired of it all and I give up." He gets out of the bed and opens the drawer to his nightstand. He takes out a permanent marker and sets it on the bed.

"Well, could you at least wait a little longer? Things might change. Besides, the date has already been set. You still have at least three more weeks."

"We may as well get ourselves geared up for it. What's done is done. I'm doing it to tomorrow."

"Zayn you can't."

"Yes I can. I knew this would happen. Ever since I was thirteen. It's finally here." He kneels down on the floor and reaches under his bed where he finds the journal that holds the list of ideas on how to kill himself. When he gets back in bed and opens the journal to the right page, he sees there are only three left. He studies the list carefully as the voice speaks again.

"But you don't understand Zayn. If you commit suicide, this is just like you punishing yourself for something you didn't even do. Why take your own life without a valid reason? Harry Styles did this to you. This is all his fault. He hurt you and he hurt you badly. He took advantage of you because he knew you were young and scared and he used it against you. He used all those things and then threatened you to make you take care of his sexual desires. Don't blame yourself. It isn't fair."

Zayn has a reply to everything that's just been said to him. And he wants to argue why 100% of it is his fault. But for some reason, he can't help but ponder those thoughts. They are worth considering. After all, Harry was the one who blackmailed him into giving him blowjobs. Harry was the one who took pictures of him naked, abused him physically, took his virginity, drugged him, and gave him to 6 men to use as a sex toy.

_Whoa... He did do all of that, didn't he? Yeah. 50% of this has to go on him for sure._

"You're right." he answers in return and he looks down at the 3 options that are still yet to be crossed out. "You're... you're so right. How could I not see it?"

He chuckles to himself looking through tears that film his eyes and threaten to fall again. Something huge has just come to his mind. "I can't believe I've just now thought of this. This is so crazy."

"Crazy? What's so crazy?"

"Everything really. Everything's so crazy. I'm crazy. I mean... I must be if I'm really going to do this."

"Do what?"

Zayn rips out the sheet, purposely leaving the three choices unmarked. He takes the marker and scribbles four letters on a blank sheet.

**PLAN**

"Plan? Um, what are you doing?"

Zayn isn't exactly sure what every detail of this "plan" is going to be yet, but based on the rough draft he's conjured up in his brain, he thinks it could work. He's aware of how bad it's going to be. He's aware of how tragic this is going to end. But he wants to do it. He feels like he needs to.

"I change my mind about killing myself. Tomorrow that is. I've decided that if I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right. "Are you kidding me?! I am your conscience! Listen to me! Were you not just agreeing to everything I told you?! This is Harry's fault!"

"I know."

"Then what are you doing?! I don't get it! Why do you need a plan if you're still just going to kill yourself anyway?"

"Because I'm going to do more than that, but I need a plan first. And not just any plan. It's got to be so epic and so shocking, nobody, not even my mother, is going to forget what happened."


	66. 66

Harry is very nervous when he walks toward the back of the library Monday morning, the place he hasn't been in so, so long. He takes a deep and shaky breath and then he steps around the last bookshelf, to see Zayn sitting down on the ground with his back up against the wall and his backpack in his lap. He wonders what the boy is thinking right now. What's on his brain?

When Zayn looks up and their eyes meet, he's expecting him to look scared or be looking for a way to escape. But he finds that it isn't even close to the truth when he notices Zayn smiling up at him. It's confusing, yet also beautiful to look at.

"Hi." Harry says carefully sitting down next to him.

"Hi."

"A-are you alright?"

"What do you mean? "After what happened to you. Are you okay?"

That's when Zayn has to remember that even though all those horrible things happened a little over a month ago, this is the first time they have properly talked since then. Of course Harry is still curious to know, so he answers. "I'm great."

He notices the muddled shock in Harrys face. "Really? And all your scars have heeled?"

Zayn thinks about the bath Harry gave him. So he knows Harry knows how many there were and how each of them looked. "My scars have heeled. I'm okay."

"That's good." He sighs and then he looks at his feet. "Can I say I'm sorry?"

Zayn shrugs. "There's no need."

More confusion. "What?"

"You don't need to apologize. It's okay."

"Why don't I need to apologize? I don't get it."

"Because you don't need to. "But please. Explain to me, why are you-"

"-Drop it Harry. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

When Harry sees Zayn really isn't smiling anymore, he stops prying and shuts his mouth. He guesses that it's safe to say Zayn forgives him of everything he's done to him. Well... Either that or he's just dying to forget about it as quick as he can.


	67. 67

Throughout the rest of the school day, Harry still continues to be bewildered by Zayn's strange behavior. And after school when the team is practicing on the soccer field, he keeps looking at Zayn wondering why he seems so cheerful and joyful after he'd gone through something like that. He should not be like this. Harry knows from experience After they practice a few more free kicks, Coach ends practice and everyone goes back into the school for their shower. It's not long before he and his teammates are done and Harry's sitting on the bench putting on his shoes and socks. He's already dried his hair very well with a towel.

"Do you think coach will go easy on us before our game on Friday?"

He looks up to see the blonde haired one looking down at him. "Never. "Why does he make us practice so hard all the time? Those guys really aren't that good anyway. Not like us."

Harry chuckles. "And how do you figure that? They haven't lost yet."

"Neither have we. But the difference is, we have the best soccer captain in the whole damn nation."

Harry smiles a little. "Alright, what do you want?"

The blonde haired one looks around and waits till all of the players except a couple have left the locker room. "I just want to cheer you up is all. I noticed you've been sad all day and you didn't say anything at lunch either."

"So?"

"So that's not like you. You're usually joking and laughing, teasing someone, anything. It's boring when you aren't yourself."

Harry doesn't know if he should take that as a good or bad thing. "Sorry, it's just been a long day. I haven't been feeling too good all morning. Maybe I'll be better tomorrow. I don't know."

"I hope so."

"Thanks."

Harry sighs and the blonde one speaks again. "Well I have to get home to my family. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, see ya."

When the blonde haired boy leaves, so does the remaining boy that was still here earlier. Harry finishes putting on his shoes and socks and then grabs his backpack. As soon as he throws it over his shoulder, he hears a voice. It's calling his name.

"Harry?"

It causes him to set his backpack back down. "Zayn?"

"Is anybody else in here besides us?"

"...No... I thought the last guy just left. I guess not."

"Then, can you lock the door and come here please?"

"Uh, sure." Harry locks the door and makes his way toward the back of the locker room. As he nears one of the stalls, Zayn comes out completely naked.

"Whoa Zayn. What are you doing?"

"Relax, the door is locked." When he stands directly in front of Harry, he turns around revealing his backside. "See? All the marks are healed."

Harry takes a good look at his back and he can see where the two marks have healed into scars. It nearly makes him upset again, because it's nothing like the 'HARRY' mark he made. This is someone else's doing. It's ugly. "Yeah, I see it."

Zayn turns to him again and gives him a shy look. Harry thinks he looks adorable.

"Why are you naked?" he smiles looking him up and down.

"I don't know." he lies. "I just haven't got dressed yet. I probably should..."

"No, no worries. I don't hate it. I actually like seeing you naked." Harry reaches for his hand and pulls Zayn to him. Zayn is smiling because this is right where he wants Harry to want him to be.

If that makes any sense.

Zayn looks up at him and chuckles and Harry cups his chin. "You're beautiful when you smile like this. And I like it more because you're looking at me."

Zayn's not sure whether to throw up or smile because that was actually a romantic gesture. It just came from the wrong person. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?" he asks.

"Hm?"

"I thought you were going to kiss me."

Harry is thrown off just like he was earlier in the morning. "I-I what? No, I don't think I should Zayn. Maybe we should go slow."

"Go slow? Why? You just admitted to me that you like me when I don't have any clothes on. I thought that would at least make you want to kiss me." He frowns, knowing he just admitted the real reason he's naked is to attract Harry to him.

"After everything that's just happened to you?"

"Y-yeah."

"Are you sure? You really want me to kiss you?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I mean... it's not a big deal. I like your kisses." Of course he knows that's not true. He hates kissing Harry now. But if he's going to get on with his plan, he's got to first get Harry to think he willingly kisses him every time Harry thinks for a moment.

"Maybe just a quick one on the lips, okay?"

Zayn shrugs, but nods. A few seconds later, Harry's leaning down and kissing him quickly. "There. Satisfied?"

"Yeah..."

Now, Harry looks like he's thinking. "Are you sure?"

"I guess so."

They stare at each other for a moment, and Zayn puts a hand on Harry's chest to pull away. Harry would have let him leave, but he doesn't really want to let him go with just that. So he grabs him again and leans down to kiss him the way he's been itching to kiss him since he got him from up against the warehouse door: full and long, and with a lot of feeling and tongue.

When their lips do detach again, Harry wraps his arms around Zayn comfortingly so they're flesh against clothes and he kisses his cheek. "I missed you." he whispers. "I missed you a lot."

"Okay." Zayn replies dryly and he rolls his eyes now that Harry can't see. He refuses to say those words back. He's not going to stand here and tell him a lie, when he knows fully well what's coming to Harry. He understands everything he's doing now is leading Harry on. But this is for a reason. It seems to be the only way. And now that stage one of his 8 part plan is halfway complete, Harry doesn't really need to see him naked anymore. "Harry I-I have to get dressed and walk home. So I really need to go."

"Oh right. Sorry... Am I gonna see you tomorrow?" Harry reluctantly let's him go, and Zayn turns back into the stall for his clothes.

"Yeah, you'll see me tomorrow."

"And you won't disappear for two weeks?" he asks quietly.

"I won't."

"Promise? I want you to promise."

Zayn turns to look at him. He can't really read how sincere Harry is. Not anymore after all those times he's trusted him and been disappointed. "Promise."


	68. 68

When Zayn's mother gets home from work that evening, Zayn can see that accomplishing stage two of his plan is being put in place.

"I'm tired." she declares when she sees Zayn in the living room. "I won't be cooking dinner tonight. I'll probably go for a bath, eat a snack and go to bed." She smiles at him, and she does it so warmly and welcoming, he has to pause and remember that this is all a front and she really doesn't care about him. This is only because she is tired. She tosses her purse on the kitchen counter, then makes her way down the hallway to the bathroom where she runs her bathwater.

As he waits for the tub to fill up, he pulls up a webpage on his phone, one he had recently saved when he first devised his plan.

He taps on the little search bar at the middle of the page, and when the keyboard pops up, he types in two words.

**Hunting Knives**

He presses the magnifying glass button to indicate he's ready to search.

Since he's been on this website before, he already knows what he's looking for and he knows which knife it is he wants to get. As a matter of fact, it's the 3rd suggestion on the list in the search results. It's a 4.4 inch Steel Fixed blade with a gut hook, so it has a multi purpose for things like stripping and skinning. It's also needle sharp at the point which means it's great for piercing too. The $135 knife caught his eye the moment he saw it, and he's sure it's the one he wants to use.

Zayn waits patiently another 5 minutes, then he hears the water for her bath cut off. A few seconds later, he hears her voice. "Zayn I'll be in the tub. Don't knock on the door if you're not dying. And don't go in my room. I don't want your filthy hands all over my things."

Zayn gives her a blank stare as she walks away, and waits for the sound of the bathroom door being closed and locked. When he hears both, he gets up and goes to the kitchen where her purse is sitting. Surprisingly, he doesn't have to reach down in it and disturb too many things because her wallet is sitting right on top. He takes it out and returns to the living room.

The knife is already in his cart, so he clicks on his cart, and finds that there is a 'Proceed to Checkout' button. He taps it.

Next in line, is a host of questions. Questions like his name and address.

_Easy..._

State and phone number,

_Easy..._

Zip code and email.

_Super easy._

Zayn knows all of this. It's elementary.

Once the information is filled out, he presses 'Continue' at the bottom of the page. After confirming that it is indeed his address, he's moving from the "Billing" section, to the "Delivery Info" section. All he has to do is select the 3 day shipping option, which more than likely means extra money, and he presses another 'Continue' button. This takes him to the "Payment" section.

Here's where he needs his mothers wallet. He opens it up and finds her credit card sticking up out of one of the card slots. He retrieves it and his eyes immediately travel toward the bottom where the 16 digit card number is. He types that into the correct information bar.

Next requirement, is the 3 digit security code. He flips the card over, and there it is, clear as daylight. He types it in. He also makes sure to check the 'no signature required' box as well. So even if he's at school when they deliver, they will leave the package there at the front door, instead of taking it back with them just because there was no one there to sign it off.

As he scrolls down, he sees there's nothing else to do and there is no more mandatory information they need from him. All he has to do is press 'Submit Order and Review'. That's exactly what he does, and this takes him to the "Review" section, the very last one. After looking over what his form looks like, he bypasses the 'Print Bill' option and presses 'Done'.

When the next page shows his order was a success, he exits the webpage and puts his mother's card back in the slot. Then he tiptoes into the kitchen, over to her purse where he attempts placing the wallet exactly the way he found it. As he examines closely, he sees he's done a pretty good job too. It looks virtually undisturbed.

Zayn isn't hungry for dinner. He's too eager about this, to eat. So he doesn't worry about making anything tonight. He leaves the kitchen and walks down the hallway to his bedroom to check his list.

Stage two is finished. He is ready to get on with stage three now. But as he looks down at it, he sees that at the current moment, the odds of it happening is very low. The only chance it becomes higher, is if he completely finishes with stage one. Zayn needs to step his game up. He needs to come on to Harry a little stronger.

Because by Saturday, everything needs to be put in place and already ready to go. No delays.

_Sunday is the day._


	69. 69

Dr. Kershman sits across from Harry with a huge smile on her face. Harry has just told her about his visit with his father. "I'm so proud of you Harry. Just look at the progress you're making and the speed of which you're making it... I'm lost for words." She sits her pad down, because she has no intentions of using it right now. "Do you think it helped you in anyway?"

Harry clears his throat. "Yes. Actually I do. He was the one I had to forgive for hurting me. He was the first part of the three steps you gave me."

Now she looks surprised. "Oh really? Well then... Have you forgiven yourself yet? That was the next step I gave you."

"I did it all." he says. "I forgave him, I forgave myself, then I apologized. And it worked. Zayn forgave me."

Her eyebrows raise. "Zayn was the person you hurt? How did you hurt him? You haven't dated yet, right?"

Harry pauses, forgetting it was never meant to come out that Zayn was the person he hurt. "Right... But we still saw each other at school... What I mean is that... I didn't show him I liked him the way I was supposed to. I didn't understand how to."

"And why do you think that's so?"

"Because of my... my 'father'. He used to always tell me he loved me, but he'd still do those horrible things to me. And I think because of that, I never knew how to really love or even like someone properly. He fooled me Dr. Kershman. And now I'm so lost. But I want to do it my own way and get back on track." He shrugs and sits up. "I really, really like Zayn. I just wish I could have done things better."

"So I get the feeling that you're finally ready to tell Zayn you like him."

Harry chuckles. "I really don't need to. He already knows I like him and I know he likes me back. "How are you so sure?"

"We kissed."

"Oh, you've kissed? When?" She sees the way Harry can't stop grinning.

"Yesterday and today. That's two days in a row, so I know it's going to work out. And I know I graduate soon, so I won't see him as much, but I want to make it work. I think Zayn wants to too. You should see the way he looks at me. I didn't think a person could hurt someone so much and that person can still like the one who hurt them. She smiles. But there's a troubled look in her eyes. "Harry... I'm a little worried. You keep mentioning how much you've hurt him. Are you sure everything is alright?"

"Mhm. Everything is fine."

"And he's really okay with whatever it is that you did?"

"Yeah. He told me it was okay. And I believe him. So if you're asking that question to try to change my mind doctor, it won't be changed... She shakes her head. "No, no. I'm not trying to change your mind. I just want you to be careful. We don't want any setbacks. Disappointment can cause that."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm fine. I promise you I'm alright."

She grabs her clipboard again and a pen. "Alright. I trust you." But her tone of voice is skeptical. "Let's move on, shall we? Are you ready to write down how you feel? It's the beginning of the month."

Harry snickers. "Wasn't the only reason you made me start writing down how I felt in the first place, because I never wanted to actually talk?"

She nods. "Yes, that was the reason."

"Well, I don't want to write them down anymore. I'm ready to talk now." Harry says.

Dr. Kershman tries to hold in her inner joy over this, but it's so hard. She had been waiting on this day since his foster dad brought him in to see her for his first visit. She started to think it would never get to this point. She was wrong. "Without a second thought, she throws her clipboard off to the side and then runs over to him embracing him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you Harry, I don't think you even understand. I feel like I've watched you grow over this past year or so. You're an amazing kid. No matter what you think or what people tell you in your life, you are strong. Do you hear me? You are very strong. Remember that."

"Yes ma'am."

When she pulls away from him, she's smiling, but it's clear she's crying too. It's the first time Harry has ever seen her cry. It's weird to know his therapist cries even though she's human just like him.

She wipes her eyes and returns to her chair. "Now, are you ready to tell me how you feel?"

"Yes I am."

"Then go ahead." she nods once. "Tell me how you feel. Don't be afraid to tell me everything."

And that's exactly what he does while she sits back folding her arms and watching him, the whole time smiling from ear to ear.


	70. 70

Harry is a bit confused when on Wednesday during practice, Zayn playfully bumps into him and shoots him a smile. Zayn doesn't show any kind of public affection simply for the fact that he's afraid people will find out about his secret, yet here he is...

_...flirting?_

So when everybody's distracted, and not really looking, Harry pulls him backward up against his body by his practice jersey and kisses his neck once.

This surprises Zayn more than he initially surprised Harry, because Harry never shows any kind of affection related to sex outside the locker room or the janitor's closet when they're at school. Sure he's trying to lure Harry in, but he wants it done discreetly. He doesn't want anyone to see him doing it.

"We should probably stop and go with the others... before someone sees us." Zayn suggests smoothly and Harry willingly let's go of his uniform.

"Sure."

They join the others in the huddle and hear the coach say they'll spend tomorrow looking at film for Friday's opponent.

_Friday..._

Zayn frowns, because he's got a lot of work to do if he wants to accomplish stage three on Friday. Especially since he doesn't want to wait another week.

_I need to work harder, I have to._

Because if he doesn't properly do stage 1, stage 3 is out of the question and his plan won't work.

"Alright, practice is dismissed. Head to the showers boys. Don't forget your notepads tomorrow." Coach says.

Everyone complains, but they still assure him they will do as he says and they scatter toward to school showers.

"Two more days." Harry says striking up a quiet conversation with Zayn on the way inside.

"Yep. Two more days." Zayn ignores possible onlookers when Harry winks at him and he forces himself to smile up at him. However unlike Harry, he's not agreeing with him about the number of days left until the soccer game. He's smiling because that wink just told him he's one step closer. Harry is falling for his trap more and more everyday and he really thinks Zayn likes him back.

But boy, is he going to be so shocked when he finds out what all of this returned affection is really for.


	71. 71

Zayn walks up the pathway to his home, and finds a package sitting at his front door. He already knows what it is. And since the box hasn't been disturbed, he knows his mother hasn't been home to see that he's even ordered this yet, which is what he anticipated in the first place

When he finally gets into the house and takes his backpack off, he sits the box on his bed and uses a pair of scissors to cut the tape away. When it's open, he sees it's in bubble wrap, so he takes it out. Not much to his surprise, the knife is in a small brown sheath. Zayn can care less about it being protected, but it's nice to have that for carrying purposes. He decides he's going to use it this Sunday.

_Might as well..._

He takes the knife from the sheath, and pulls back the sheets and covers on his on his bed until his mattress shows. He takes it by the handle and presses the blade into the mattress. After it pierces a little, he drags the knife toward his body just to see how well it can cut.

Turns out, 'well' isn't the right word for it. This knife cuts perfectly. It's a perfect slit stretching about six inches long and the edges of it are nice and clean. At this point, he knows he definitely picked the right one for what he wants to use it for.

After making a couple more slits for fun, he arranges his sheets back the way they belong and puts the knife back in the sheath. He decides to hide it in the box and underneath his bed, that way he remembers where he put it when it's time to take it back out. Not that he'll forget something like that anyway. It just makes it easier to get to.

"I can't believe it... I can't believe you're actually going to do it." Zayn says to himself as he lays back on his bed.

It's still hard for him to fathom that he is about to make Harry pay for everything he ever did to hurt him. But as hard as it is, he's not even close wanting to back down now. All he has to remember is that all of this is Harry's fault. All the things that have happened to him, are because Harry wanted them to happen to him. The way he suffered, the way he cried, the way he feared him... That was caused by Harry. And each time he relives those memories, anger boils in his blood.

Now it is time for Harry to feel those same things. It's his turn to suffer in fear. And whatever Zayn has to do to make sure that happens, he will do it.

 


	72. 72

"I'm really happy."

That's the first thing Harry had told his doctor on Tuesday when he told her how he felt. He hasn't used that five letter word in a long time, because he hasn't felt true happiness in a long time. He got to taste a little bit of what true happiness was like before he gave Zayn away to be sexually assaulted by those men for two long hours, but that didn't last long at all. Now that he knows he has Zayn to himself, and that no one is going to hurt either of them again, there's a weight lifted, and the joy he feels now is insurmountable.

Yesterday, after they'd gone over film for the soccer game, Zayn kissed him yet again. And this time he didn't walk home alone like he normally did. He let Harry take him home, something that hadn't happened in a while.

He can't stop simpering when he thinks about how Zayn has kissed him four days in a row. Harry doesn't think he wants anything more than that. All of this is perfect. Everything about is just right.

Finally, something good is happening to him.

"Harry, come on dude. Get off the fucking bus, so we can go do our pregame warm ups."

Harry looks up to see the bearded one looking down at him impatiently. He's just realized they've reached the soccer field at the high school they'll be playing this evening. They are the only two on the bus.

"Oh. Have you been standing there the whole time?" He asks grabbing his duffle bag.

"No. I left with everyone else, but Coach told me to come back and find you."

"Right." Harry stands up and both boys walk off the bus.

"What's up with you Harry? Your head hasn't been in it this week."

"Nothing is wrong with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Well I am."

"I sure hope so. Because we've got a game and we need your head in it if we're going to stay undefeated. You're our best player."

"I know, I know."

"And don't forget we're depending on you. So no screw ups. "I said I know, so stop lecturing me, okay?" Harry growls in annoyance. "Now get the fuck away from me, so I can concentrate." Then he jogs onto the field where the coach and the rest of his teammates have already started warmups, leaving the bearded one behind.


	73. 73

For Zayn, this soccer game is the longest he has ever been at. And not because he's sitting on the bench watching from the sidelines, because he's always doing that. But today he has other things on his mind. His plan is do or die right now.

The team has played well today, and they are up 4 goals to 2. It's the last few seconds and Zayn watches the team kick the ball around to each other. When the referee signals the game is over, the team cheers and high five each other because they are still undefeated and the other team no longer is.

"Wait a second. Wait a second." The coach says getting their attention. "There are still three more games left in the season. Let's not get too excited boys. And as proud as I am of you, you all need to go into the visiting showers and get yourselves cleaned up because we need to board the bus and get you back to our own high school. Especially those of you who aren't driving, because your parents are probably waiting on you. Can you get cleaned in twenty minutes?"

Most of them nod.

"Alright then. You are free to go now." And he waves them off.

Zayn, like a couple others, don't really need to shower. So he just changes into casual clothes, and waits patiently on the bus for the others to get done.

*

*

*

"Uh, Zayn?" Harry asks as his teammates are getting in their cars to go home. He doesn't care if they see him talking to him. He wants to ask this before Zayn starts to walk home, since the sun is setting pretty quickly.

"What?"

"It's getting dark out. Did you want me to take you home? Cause I can... Zayn studies him up and down, wondering if it's okay to say yes. Maybe not. However, nothing happened yesterday and as he ponders more, he realizes this seems very convenient for what he wants to do. Almost like Harry is purposely trying to fall into Zayn's hands. "Yeah, that's okay with me."

Harry smiles and then opens a passenger door to throw his bag on the back seat. "Get in then."

Zayn shyly walks around to the front passenger side and sits in the car, holding his backpack full of soccer gear and schoolbooks in his lap. Harry's done and in the car in no time buckling his seat belt.

_Do or die, remember?_

Zayn speaks up. "Actually... I don't want to go home."

"What?" Harry asks as he turns on the ignition, because he wasn't expecting that.

"Don't take me home."

"Where do you want to go then?"

Zayn looks around making sure everyone else has completely gone first. Once he sees they have, he tosses his backpack in the back seat and turns in his seat to face Harry. "Take me home with you. I miss being with you."

Harry's eyebrows crinkle. "What are you even talking about? We've seen each other everyday."

"I don't mean being with you as in seeing you in school. I mean... outside of school. Where we used to always go."

"Uh, Okay..." Harry chuckles, but he's clearly confused In his mind, Zayn wants to punch Harry in the face because Harry's not really getting that he wants to get inside his house. So maybe he's going to have to appeal to Harry without coming right out with those exact words. And the only way he knows to be appealing to Harry, is the only way he's ever been appealing to him.

"You really don't understand?"

"No."

Zayn mentality scoffs, but Harry can only see him giggling and leaning towards him over the console. "You've kissed you me, but you haven't touched me anywhere. I miss that."

Harry's hands suddenly grip the steering wheel as he begins to realize what Zayn has been talking about the whole time. "You mean touch you as in..."

"Mhm."

Harry shakes his head. "Wait a minute Zayn, I can't. I-I can't. After everything that happened. I can't do it. We're going slow, remember?"

"Why not?" Zayn's facial expression nor voice, never changes.

"Because. Those men, they... they touched you and they hurt you. There's no way you can be ready for that. I'm giving you time."

But Zayn turns Harry to him, and presses their lips together. That does make Harry let go of the steering wheel and he kisses back for a moment.

"I don't want time. Take me back to your place, and I swear I'll let you do what you want with me. And I'll do to you, whatever you want me to do. Just like old times."

"I don't want old times anymore."

That shocks Zayn, but he doesn't allow it to show. "Well, what do you want then?"

"I want you to be one hundred percent sure."

"I am one hundred percent sure." He puts one hand on Harry's chest and with the other he turns his head away so he can whisper in his ear. "Remember all the things that happened between you and me in the janitors closet? When I got down on my knees for you. I'd do it again because you liked all of those times didn't you?"

"I guess, but Zayn I-"

"-I'm not finished." Zayn interrupts. "And what about that time you fucked me in this car? When we were in the backseat. Don't you remember that? How we slept together with the fireworks in the background?"

His voice comes out shaky. "Yeah. I remember."

"Good. Because I want you to fuck me just like that. We won't even need condoms this time, which means you can cum as much as you want inside me. I can already imagine what it'll feel like." And he moans seductively in his ear and kisses his neck so tenderly in different places.

Harry groans, but doesn't push him off. "Zayn."

"Hm?"

"I can't. I don't want to."

Zayn chuckles, because it's too late to back down now. "Aer you sure about that?"

"Yeah."

Zayn brings his hand from his chest up to his chin and he makes Harry face downward. "Why are you getting so excited then?"

Harry hadn't realized Zayn's words and kisses and noises had turned him on so much. "I-I don't know why, I promise I didn't..."

The rest of his sentence fades into the unknown when Zayn reaches down to touch him and grope his hardening member through his jeans. "Fuck, I want this so bad Harry." He closes his eyes and bites down on his lip.

Harry gives him a strained look, like he's trying to contain himself. But Zayn knows he's two seconds from giving in to his sexual desires. Harry never controlled himself during those times when he would make Zayn do all those things to him. There's no way he would stop himself this time.

"Come on Harry. You want me. If we go back to your place, I can touch you without all of this unnecessary material being in the way. How would you like that?"

"Zayn I..." He's using so much resistance, it almost sounds like he's crying.

"You what?" Zayn applies pressure over his crotch and Harry puts his hands over his not knowing if he wants this to keep going or if he wants to remove Zayn's hands.

"I..."

Zayn kisses his ear, giggling quietly in it. "Can't you get it out? Can't you tell me you want to take me home and undress me? Cause I'll let you Harry." He chuckles again. " Just say the words, and I'll let you take me."

That's when it happens. That's when Harry gives in.

"Okay Zayn. Stop or I swear I'll do it right here." His teeth are gritted. "Just sit down, put your seat belt on and be patient."

Zayn his hands from Harry's body, smiling to himself. Not that he's tremendously looking forward to what he's actually being taken to Harry's house for. He's just glad stage one is finally complete. Now he can move on.

He puts on his seatbelt and watches Harry carefully. He's squirming around and he can't even sit still. He's noticeably uncomfortable, but it'll only be five or six minutes before Zayn's giving him the relief he wants and that his body is begging for.

This is the one thing Zayn never thought the beginning of stage three would have looked like, but unfortunately, it is. He'll just have to deal with it. He's taking what Harry gives him. By Sunday, he'll know its all worth it though. He only has two more days to live with everything that's about to happen.

Two more days. Wow. That's not long at all.

And sad to say, the only consolation that's keeping him on track, is knowing he's going to die soon.


	74. 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just smut so... take it how you want to.

As soon as they get to Harry's house, Zayn breathes a sigh of relief that Harry's father isn't there. He can just image how uncomfortable he'd be if he had to keep quiet while this was happening. And if his father ended up overhearing them and coming in on them, that'd be so embarrassing. Harry doesn't move slow with pulling Zayn up the stairs, and they can barely get off the last step before he's roughly taking off their backpacks and throwing them down, then pushing Zayn up against the hall wall kissing him. It's only a quick kiss on his lips, But he leaves kisses everywhere on his neck and jawline.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks one more time in a breathy tone as he still kisses him. "Because if not, I'll stop right now and take you straight home. I promise."

Zayn shakes his head. "No, I want this. I told you that in the car. But if you're really as eager as you say you are, why do you keep asking so many questions?"

Harry chuckles and brings his hands to Zayn's ass. "I don't know. You're right. I'll stop. Jump and I'll carry you to my room."

"Okay." Zayn does jump and he feels better when Harry catches him and holds him up. Then again, he doesn't  know why he didn't trust Harry wouldn't drop him in the first place. Harry is two years older, and much more taller, stronger and bigger than Zayn. He always has been.

Harry carries him to the bedroom and puts Zayn down on the foot of the bed. He flicks the light in the room and comes back over to the bed where he's standing up in between Zayn's legs. "I would ask you to take these glasses off so there's no risk of them getting broke, but I think I'll let you leave them on. I really like the look."

Zayn raises his eyebrow, but obviously Harry wants him to keep them on as some kind of weird kink. Harry reaches for his shirttail and he lifts it up above his head. When his shirt comes off, his tatted chest, abdomen and arm is exposed. Zayn wonders how his dad let him get all these tattoos. Because right now, his mother probably will never let him get any as long as he's still underage and in school.

"I see you marveling at my tattoos as if you haven't seen them before... You like them?"

Zayn swallows and looks away. "I...I don't know. Sorry."

But Harry tenderly swipes a thumb over his lip. "There's no right or wrong answer. I wasn't expecting anything in particular."

Zayn just looks up at him in surprise. This is weird. Maybe Harry is saying this now, while he's waiting for Zayn to fall into his trap, then he'll hurt him again.

"Do you want me to undress you or do you want to do it yourself?"

Harry figures less touching would help Zayn ease into this, but poor Zayn is lost and doesn't know what to say. Because all the times he's had sex, other than the first time when he was already naked, Harry or those men had undressed him. Maybe that's the way this time should be as well."Uhm... You can... You can do it."

"Okay. I'll be gentle with you then." Harry leans down and kisses him and even though Zayn's eyes are closed when he kisses back, he can feel Harry smiling into it. He's doing a good job of being gentle. Fortunately, the reason for that, is the drive here was able to calm Harry down. His sexual arousal has dropped quite a bit, which means even though Harry still very much wants this and despite the fact that his erection is clearly showing, he's not going to just throw Zayn on the bed, undress him, and then take him as quickly as he can.

Seconds later, Harry is taking Zayn's shirt off, and carefully pushing him down on the bed. He bends down on his knees taking off Zayn's shoes and he stands back up to turn his attention to Zayn's jeans.

Zayn is watching him carefully, the way his long fingers work. He's undoing his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling them down and off, along with his underwear. In a way it's a little terrifying, because this is about to be the fifth time he's been with Harry like this. But he holds on to the thought that it'll be over soon. Then he'll be able to do what he actually came here to do. He'll be able to accomplish his real purpose.

Harry takes off his shoes and throws them down to the ground. But unlike he was with Zayn, he isn't gentle in taking off his own pants and underwear. He moves so much more faster and he groans when he thinks about how much those pants were really restricting him.

Zayn, though he's unaware he's doing it, bites his lip at the sight of Harry walking right in front of him, closing his eyes and rubbing himself. Sure, Harry has done a lot of things to hurt him and make him cry, but that's not going to change the fact that he thinks this is hot as hell. It makes him squirm and whimper, and when Harry hears him moan, he opens his eyes to look down at him.

"Fuck, I'm leaving you out. Sorry, I just... I just really needed to be touched. Upon hearing that, Zayn sits up on his knees and pushes Harry's hands away. "It's okay." He grasps Harry with one of his hands and leans down in front of him licking up and down the vein that lines his shaft. After a good tease, he fully takes him into his mouth. Harry closes his eyes with a happy sigh, then begins running his hands through Zayn's hair in a soothing motion as his head moves back and forth. It's been a long time since Zayn has done this to him. He forgot how good this feels.

"Zayn, your mouth feels so good." he says a couple minutes later and he unconsciously starts to move his hips back and forth so that he's thrusting into Zayn's mouth and hitting the back of his throat. This is so spontaneous and quick and because Zayn wasn't prepared to begin with, he chokes and he gags. After two more thrusts, he forces himself away from Harry and bags away coughing uncontrollably.

It takes a few seconds to realize what just happened and when he does, he sits down on the bed, wraps his arms around himself and he starts to cry. "I'm sorry." He holds his head down because he's waiting on Harry to grab him by the hair, hit him, or do something terrible that'll make him hurt so that he pays for not being able to take Harry the way he wanted him to.

But it never happens.

Instead, Harry leans down and kisses his trembling lips. "It's alright. We don't have to do that if you don't want to. If it's too much, I won't force you." He kisses Zayn's chin and he smiles widely.

Even though Zayn is confused and feeling suspicious about the idea that Harry could be tricking him right now, he still smiles back. How can he not, when Harry's being this nice to him? "Do you think you're ready to continue? Or do you need a moment?"

_The quicker this gets over with, the better._

Zayn wipes his eyes and nods. "I'm ready."

"Then turn over, put your feet on the ground and bend over." Harry orders.

Zayn swallows thickly, but does as he says anyway. Besides showing, once again, that he'll never be able to give a good blowjob to anyone, this position feels more uncomfortable and embarrassing than that. He's naked with Harry pulling him back towards him by his hips and he suddenly feels more than exposed simply because he can't see Harry's face.

"Never had this angle with you before." Harry says. " I wanna see how you do."

Zayn tries not to picture Harry's face with a sly smile, but it's hard not to when he's seen that smirk of his constantly in the last 8 1/2 months.

He feels Harry's hands on his cheeks and it feels weird to have him spreading them, gosh, it feels so awkward. But it does calm him when Harry kisses his back a few times. "I don't know how much it will hurt or not, so I'm gonna start with my fingers so there's less pain okay?"

"Okay." Zayn says and he waits patiently.

Harry coats his fingers in his own saliva, then carefully and slowly pushes them inside the boy in front of him. When Zayn hisses, Harry's pats his side to assure him everything is fine. "It's alright babe. I promise."

_Babe..._

Zayn doesn't know what to do with that; doesn't know how to take words as gentle as those when they're coming from Harry. So he grips the covers, closes his eyes and focuses on the way Harry's fingers feel as they slide in and out of him.

"You're always so tight," Harry says smugly. "But I like that. It means no one else is fucking you."

Zayn smiles a little, but then his eyebrows indent because he's getting this unwanted good feeling in his body resulting from Harry's fingering.

"I hope you feel as good as I want to make you feel. Do you?"

Zayn groans and nods awkwardly even though he doesn't want to.

"I'm guessing that's a yes." Harry chuckles, scissoring his fingers so his fingertips rub against the walls inside Zayn. He continues to do this another minute or so until he hears Zayn mumble.

"That feels good Harry, it does." And he starts rolling his hips onto Harry's fingers.

"Whoa there, princess." Harry says smiling. "If you're gonna grind on anything, I prefer it to be my dick. Not my fingers."

Zayn, who is now slightly sheepish, opens his eyes and he can feel those fingers being taken out. He whines for "more", but Harry rubs his side again. "I think you're primed enough. And I have something way better anyway. Just nod your head when you want it. Zayn nods his head in a needy way. It's the first time he's about to beg for something like this. "I want it. Please... I really want it."

Harry grabs hold of his dick, and rubs the head a few times. The sight of Zayn's ass turned up, and freshly fingered makes him want to cum all over it now. But the way Zayn's waiting so patiently, tells him Zayn wants this with him. Zayn wants him to fuck him just the way he asked him to in the car on the way here. And believe it or not, Harry wants to share this with him too Harry uses one hand on Zayn's cheek so he can halfway spread them again, and the other, he uses to guide his stiff member into Zayn.

The moan Zayn let's out, makes Harry crazy and he has to keep himself from picking up the pace too soon and fucking this delicate boy senseless. "Is it too much?" he asks moving very slowly.

Zayn wants to say it is. He wants to tell Harry it hurts, especially without any form of lubrication. But one, this at the same time feels so fucking good, and two, he figures that if he can deal with six men of different sizes, then he can deal with Harry who is only one. "It's fine, just... just keep moving."

"So, is it okay to go faster then?"

"Please." And Harry does move his hips faster.

Zayn closes his eyes again, and for some reason, all he can think about is the first time he was ever with Harry. The time when he felt like a dummy. When he was clueless about sex. He isn't anymore. He knows all about it, he knows what it entails and he feels like between Harry and those six men Harry left him with, he's been in every sex position there can possibly be.

 _I'm only sixteen._ he thinks. _I shouldn't know what it feels like to be sexually aroused by someone else in a physical way. I should be a virgin. And I definitely shouldn't be gay. Right? Shit, my mother would kill me if she knew about this._

"Are you alright Zayn?"

He snaps out of his thoughts. "Yeah, why?"

"You're mumbling to yourself."

Zayn sort of tenses and Harry lightly slaps one of his cheeks a few times, which does make him loosen up again. "Could you hear me?" he strains.

"No. Was I was supposed to hear?"

"Not really, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." And after that, Zayn can't get over this fluttery feeling he gets at the fact that they're having a conversation all the while Harry is probably absentmindedly thrusting into him. This is nice. Dare he say romantic.

After a while, Harry's pace starts to slow until he eventually stops. He doesn't pull out gently. "Zayn, I can't. I can't deal with not being able to look at you. I want to see your face. Can you turn over on your back for me?"

It's surprising to Zayn to have to do this. But then again, it seems like the more comfortable avenue. So he does it anyway. Harry immediately spots the HARRY mark on the front of his thigh and he leans down to kiss it. Afterward, he works his way up his body until he reaches his lips and there, is where he kisses him deeply. Zayn's so mentally high on his feelings, that he kisses back just as deeply as he's being kissed. He's moaning into it, tangling his hands in Harry's hair and wow, this feels so good, Zayn can't even think right. He can't even make himself question Harry's motives for truly treating him like he is his 'princess'.

When Harry thinks Zayn feels intoxicated enough from his kisses, he's quickly standing up and guiding himself into him again "This is so much better." he says looking down into his hazel eyes. "I can see your facial expressions. One of my favorite things about you when we're together like this." he chuckles and lays his hand flat on Zayn's belly without applying any pleasure. It's just there because he wants to touch him and pretending to hold him in place, gives him a great excuse to do that.

As Harry begins to move faster and in rhythm, the feeling of ecstasy inside Zayn begins to get stronger as well. Not that he wants it to, but he can't help it. It's  like all those times, when Harry would touch him in the janitors closet or when he would handcuff Zayn to this very bed and feel him all over until he climaxed. His body loves this. It wants and craves this. But his mind has the workings of guilt, shame, and worthlessness. All the things that complete the package of low self esteem.

Harry keeps this pace, he doesn't stop, and he certainly doesn't aim to slow down. Zayn bites his lip and closes his eyes, and he takes everything Harry gives him. He wonders why Harry knows how to do everything so right. How is it that this eighteen year old- need he say "teen", seeing that Harry is actually an adult-know how to do so many great things to him? His movements, his touches, his kisses. Why the hell does everything feel so right when he knows it's wrong; when he knows his mother disapproves?

Maybe it's because Harry hasn't really lifted a finger to hurt him since the second time he drugged him. Maybe it's because he's just filled with lust and all he wants is Harry deep inside him. But then again, maybe it's because Harry's been so nice and soothing and caring and... loving.

_No, it can't be. Harry's not capable of loving._

Zayn knows what the real Harry is like. And loving is far from it. He's cold hearted and mean and controlling and abusive. Harry is...

_What is Harry?_

Zayn doesn't know. He's never met anyone like him. He's never encountered anyone like him to be able to make any kind of conclusion. And even if he did make a conclusion, he's sure it'd mean nothing. Harry Styles is unpredictable.

However, regardless of all the things he knows and has gathered about the kind of person Harry is, it still doesn't change how his present feelings are. It doesn't say anything about the way he feels now. Because right now, Zayn is so into Harry. He wants this boy the same exact way he's being wanted in return. And that's not changing anytime soon, even if he knows it'll only be momentarily.

Zayn's laying back with his eyes shut, when he feels a harder thrust than before. And not just any hard thrust, but a complex thrust that tells him Harry is particularly aiming for his bundle of nerves, the very spot he's been waiting for Harry to hit. It makes him groan with pleasure, and he has to open his eyes. When he looks up,  Harry's eyes are closed so tight and Zayn knows what's happening inside the curly haired boy. It's the same thing that's happening in his own self, and it's the same thing that's going to happen if Harry keeps on hitting him there.

The thrusts keep coming, all the while, Harry angling his body so that it's a continuous pattern. And the both of them murmuring and grumbling together, is what helps Zayn forget that this isn't real. It helps him forget that all he's doing is enjoying the temporary pleasure of it. There is no way he actually wants to have sex with Harry. At least, that's what Zayn is telling himself.

Harry let's out a hearty scream, and suddenly he just stops all movement. His forehead is beaded with perspiration and his hair is everywhere. It's obvious what's happening. Harry is denying his own orgasm.

_Why doesn't he want an orgasm?_

Zayn's eyebrows furrow and he grabs the wrist of Harry's hand that's still on his belly. "Harry. Harry, what are you doing? Don't stop. It was feeling so great."

Harry looks down at him in a perplexed way. "I want to, but... I don't know Zayn. Are you sure? Are you sure that you want me to do this? Because if I keep going, I swear I'll cum inside you."

"What's... what's wrong with that, Harry?" he asks quietly.

Zayn chews his lip, and even though it's sexy, Harry is too bothered to acknowledge how pretty he looks doing it. "After everything that happened to you with those guys, I just want you to be one hundred percent ready. I want you to want me to do it."

Zayn pushes up his glasses, nods his head and he uses the heel of his feet to nudge Harry toward him. "I'm one hundred percent ready. Just do it, Harry. Please?"

Harry is prepared to say something else to counter that, until Zayn let's go of his wrist and reaches down to grab his own dick. Harry watches him and the way he's got his palm clasped tightly around his shaft. He's working his way up and down, running his thumb over the head, while he licks his lips. Hell, it's turning Harry on all over again to the point where he shivers.

"Dammit..." he mumbles. "You better be glad you look so fucking good doing that." He forcibly removes Zayn's legs from around his waist and he pushes them back while he holds his hands at the back of Zayn's knees, which are somehow being pressed down at his shoulders.

 _My legs..._ Zayn thinks as Harry goes about milling into him again. _Harry, do you_ _really_ _have_ _to_ _push_ _them back this far?_

It doesn't take long before Harry's going at it full speed, and he keeps constantly pounding into him, skin against skin, all at that one complex angle. Zayn hisses and cries out at the pleasure. It's a struggle to continue touching himself. So he just drops his hand and arms against the covers.

The bed is shaking due from how hard he's being fucked, and Zayn's body feels totally different now. It's clear he's ready to climax. Finally he's ready. It feels like he's been waiting forever. "Harry, I'm about to cum... I can feel it." he whines and he grabs Harry's wrists again, this time so as to hold him in place. "Whatever you do, don't stop again, please."

All Harry does is grunt though, because he's too busy focusing on how Zayn's most definitely beginning to clinch around him and the feeling it's giving him, is like no other. Harry's reaching the edge. There's absolutely nothing he can do about what's getting ready to happen.

"Fuck!" he screams out and it's simultaneous with Zayn's guttural moan indicating that they're both cumming. For Zayn, it comes out in streaks, and it lands on his stomach, his chest, and when he touches himself, his fingers. In whatever way it comes out for Harry, it feels warm and sticky and delightful and Zayn's smiling with his eyes closed, letting Harry ride out his orgasm with a few more extra and lazy thrusts.

"You're always so good at this." Harry says out of breath, and he pulls out slowly. He's still holding Zayn's legs when he bends down to get a good look at how bad he's wrecked this boy. Harry mentally applauds himself when he sees Zayn is completely done for. He's stretched pretty good, the skin around his entrance is red from friction and a decent amount of Harry's milky colored  substance drips from it, onto the covers at the foot of the bed.

"Are you okay, Zayn? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks cautiously.

Zayn shakes his head. "No, you didn't hurt me."

Harry finally releases his legs, so Zayn can lay them out again and he searches the floor for the shirt he took off. When he finds it, he uses it to clean Zayn off and he does the same to himself.

When they're both free of semen, Harry closes his bedroom door and he helps Zayn get under the covers with him. "I really don't know when my dad is going to get home, but we'll just lay here with each other until he gets here. And then we'll shower. How's that?"

Zayn nods and smiles weakly, while Harry pulls the covers up and over them. "Yeah. That sounds good."


	75. 75

"Dad's home." Harry says. He's currently nuzzled into Zayn and they've been laying in bed mumbling to each other for a half an hour. "We should probably shower now."

He pecks Zayn's lips and sits up. "You go first and while you're in there, I'll change the covers on the bed. Are you gonna be okay? Like, do you know where everything is?"

"I'm sure I can find it." Zayn says. And he steps out of bed, going to the bedroom door to open it. After peeking in the hallway and seeing that Harry's dad hasn't come upstairs looking for Harry, he tiptoes down the hallway and into the bathroom.

He walks to the tub and turns on the water for the shower. While he waits for it to be comfortable enough to get under, he looks at himself in the mirror.

 _What are you even doing, Zayn?_ He asks himself. _You keep telling yourself you only did it for the plan, but you know you wanted it just as much. Harry is basically a grown man... And you willingly slept with him._

He runs his hand through his disheveled hair and sighs. "I'm horrible." he mumbles. That makes 7 times he's had sex with a grown man. Except this time, it's not even rape anymore.

For a moment, he almost forgets that he is supposed to be taking a shower, but when he remembers, he leaves the mirror and opens the linen closet, where he grabs a large towel and a washcloth. Seeing that there is a mat on the floor in front of the tub, he sits the towel down on the back of the toilet and steps over and into the tub with the washcloth. When the water runs over his body, he smiles. Maybe this shower will help him get clean from the filthiness he feels on the inside as well.

He closes the curtain and spots the body wash in the corner in a small rack. It reads something like: Coconut & Mint. Zayn raises his brow because Harry never smells like coconut and mint. Or maybe he has and Zayn just hasn't noticed. Probably the latter. Because it's hard to pay attention to things like that when he's scared all the time he's with Harry.

He opens the cap and pours quite a bit into his washcloth. He rubs it all over his body, making sure he's good and lathered. When he finally starts to scrub, he's sure to focus on cleaning his backside the most. It feels icky, a little bit sore and he almost, for a second, regrets not changing his mind and asking Harry to put on a condom.

He cleans himself close to fifteen minutes, not caring about his hair getting a little wet and afterward, he turns off the water. When he gets out of the tub, he uses the towel to dry his hair and then his body.

 _Oh crap... I don't have any clothes._ he thinks. So he peeks out the bathroom door for Harry's dad. He hears him downstairs on the phone with someone. So he scurries back to Harry's room. Harry is putting one last pillowcase on a pillow. He sees he has put back on his dirty boxers too.

"You can just lay down in bed naked if you want. I don't care." He says. "Unless you want something of mine, like a T-shirt..."

Zayn hunches his shoulders. "Please?"

Harry shakes his head so as to say 'sure', and he walks over to the closet pulling a t-shirt off a hanger. "Here." He tosses it and Zayn catches it, opens it and puts it on. It's huge with long sleeves, but also warm.

He watches Harry grab a pair of clean boxers from his dresser. "I'll be out in fifteen minutes or less. I promise." Harry says. "Just stay in here until I get out. If dad comes, don't worry about it. He's not going to hate you or anything, okay?"

"Okay." Zayn replies looking down at the hardly fitting sleeves, and he hears those footsteps fade out toward the bathroom.

The water for Harry's shower runs for a good 7 or 8 minutes before Zayn decides it's safe to make his move and complete step 4. He knows he was told to stay in the room, but he still sneaks out and into the hallway to grab his backpack and bring it back into the room.

Zayn looks around and hums. He knows he needs two things:

1)A set of Harry's handcuffs,

and 2)his camcorder.

The best part about all of this, is that he knows where Harry keeps both items. Harry never expected this to be happening to him, so he wasn't thinking about putting everything back whenever Zayn wasn't looking. Therefore, Zayn goes straight to the nightstand drawer where his camcorder lays, and he takes it out. There's an open compartment in his backpack that he puts it in, and he hurries over to Harry's dresser across the room. Just as he figured, there are the handcuffs. Actually, there are two handcuffs right along with the keys to them both, but he only grabs one set because it's all he'll need. He does take both keys though, just in case the cuffs accidentally close, and he ends up needing to unlock them.

After collecting all objects, he quickly zips his backpack back up and hurries out in the hall to return it to its place. He's back in the room and done catching his breath when his mind thinks about what he's going to have to do next.

 _It shouldn't be too hard. We just had sex. So I know Harry will do it._ Zayn folds his arms and shrugs his shoulders with uncertainty. _At least I hope he does._


	76. 76

"What are you doing?" Harry asks when he first comes in the room. "Why aren't you in bed?"

Zayn looks at Harry and sees him wearing only a pair of boxers while he dries his hair with a towel. "I was just... looking at your desk." He answers. It's the first time he's gotten a really good look at his desk. All the times he's seen him carving into it with his metal piece, he thought he was drawing something more detailed. But it's  nothing but his name over and over again in different designs and sizes. That's all Harry has ever carved into it.

"Oh. It's okay to lay down, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

Harry comes over to him, stands behind him, putting his hands on his waist. "Come on babe. Let's lay down for now. I went downstairs while you were in the shower and told my dad to order all three of us pizza. And he did."

"He... he knows I'm up here?" Zayn asks.

"Yeah, I told him."

Zayn gulps.

"If you're scared that he knows what we did, don't be. Because I don't think he does. But even if he did, he doesn't care. He has never cared about who or what gender I like. He's a great dad and I'm lucky to have him."

Zayn plays with one of his sleeves when he feels a finger on his chin. Harry turns him backward to face him and he leans down kissing Zayn. Though Zayn knows it's not particularly for the plan anymore, he does kiss back anyway.

"Is it me, or are your kisses perfect?" Harry coos as he pecks his temple.

"It's you." Zayn ignores his acclaim and he goes over to the bed where he sits in the middle of it. "I have a question for you Harry."

"What?"

He tries to smile and sound playful even though this is strictly business. "I want to hang out with you on Sunday."

Harry looks surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah, and... I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out with me too?"

He comes over and sits down next to Zayn. "Uh, sure... what are we doing?"

Zayn takes a deep breath. _I can't believe I'm doing this._ "You know the bridge that crosses the river? The old one that leads to the abandoned fish shop?"

"Uh... yeah."

"I want to go there."

Harry is confused. "Why the old bridge? No one else uses it anymore."

"That's why... Less people. I want us to be alone."

Harry smiles. "Ooh, I like it. So, what time then? Two o'clock, three o'clock?"

"Nine. "9pm?! Why? And how are you even going to get there?"

"It's only a twenty minute walk from my house. So that's what I'll do. I'll walk."

"I don't know Zayn. That worries me. Nothing good ever happens when it's late at night like that. You're only sixteen. You shouldn't be walking anywhere by yourself. And I know I'm eighteen, but I'm still young too. I would really love to get to school unharmed on Monday." He grins, making Zayn grin too.

"I promise you I'm going to be fine Harry." Zayn mumbles quietly.

"Oh yeah, and what about me? What's my fate?" he teases.

Zayn chooses his words carefully. "Don't worry. You'll be right along side me."

"Hmm. Right where I want to be." Harry chuckles and tackles Zayn backward on the bed so that he's laying on top of him in between his legs. "You're definitely my princess, you know that?" He's talking with his lips barely grazing against Zayn's.

"I'm not a princess."

"Yes you are. You always have been. And since you're all mine, that makes me your prince. Right?"

"No, not really."

"Yes, really. Now come on. Tell me."

"No."

"Come on." he begs.

"I said no. "Tell me." Harry growls playfully, and he squeezes Zayn's side so that Zayn can't help but laugh out loud. "Alright, alright! You are a prince Harry. Don't do that again. I'm serious."

"Mhm. That's what I thought." He leans in and finally moves his lips simultaneously with the boy below so they are kissing so fervently and passionately, with Zayn wrapping his arms around him. And Zayn, though he is well aware it is no longer about the plan anymore, he continues this way humming in the kiss over and over again not giving it a second thought. All the while, the two of them are so engrossed in their clashing tongues, they are totally unaware Harry's foster dad has just stepped into the doorway getting ready to tell them the pizza is here.


	77. 77

The next day when Zayn wakes up, the clothes he had on yesterday are in the chair at Harry's desk and they are folded up nice and neat. He guesses they are clean, seeing as his glasses and a brand new toothbrush are laying on top of them as well.

 _Harry must have washed them. Wait... Where is Harry?_ Harry is not in bed beside him, but judging by the aroma of coffee, he makes a second guess that he's downstairs.

After getting out of bed, going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and putting on his clothes and glasses, he makes his way downstairs to the kitchen. He finds that Harry's dad is here, and he's the one drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning Zayn." he says. He's smiling so big. It's very welcoming.

"Good morning."

"How was your sleep?"

Zayn stands at the counter, watching him carefully. There's a pain in his ass right now, but he puts on his best game face and ignores it. "It was... good."

"That's great. I also see you're wearing your clean clothes now."

"Oh yeah... Were you the one who washed them?"

"Yes I was. I figured you would want them clean so you'd have something to wear."

"Thanks."

"Of course. Is there anything else you need?"

Zayn scans the kitchen. "Do you know where my shoes are? I left them in Harry's room last night, but I didn't see them when I got up."

He nods. "Harry brought that down with your backpack this morning. It's all in the living room."

_He touched my backpack? Oh, I hope he didn't look in it._

"Why were you asking? You're not in a hurry to leave, are you?"

Zayn looks up at him troubled. "No, no why?"

"You were looking for your things. I just thought you were ready to leave."

Zayn hesitates because he hadn't really pondered that thought. He just realized he _actually is_ ready to leave. "No, I'm not ready to leave. I was just wondering where... Where is Harry? "He went to his car for a moment. He should be back in a couple of minutes."

"Oh."

Then there's an awkward silence.

"So, Zayn." Harry's stepfather begins. "You really like Harry huh?"

That question makes Zayn freeze. "What?"

He shrugs in return to Zayn's response. "Well, you know, I just saw you kissing him yesterday. You seem like you're really into him."

 _Um._ "Oh, you saw us?"

"Yeah, I did."

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to see that. Especially if you're uncomfortable-"

"Hey, it's alright. Don't be shy." He chuckles. "I am not one to judge. As a matter of fact, when I first found out about Harry, I didn't care about it. Mostly because I had known already. I could just tell who he liked, what gender he was into." Then he smiles at Zayn even kinder than before. "And even though he refused to tell me about you and him directly, I knew you two were dating. Harry has been talking about you almost everyday for three months."

"Really?" Zayn asks, but he's confused inside. Because he always thought Harry hid him from his father. Yet here he is, and he's been talking to his father about him.

"Oh, yeah. He has. That boy's eyes light up something crazy whenever he mentions your name. One of these days, they're going to pop right out of his head." He makes a popping sound and sits his coffee cup down to make a gesture with his hands. Zayn actually does chuckle.

"I guess that's good then."

"I would like to think so. And I'm sure Harry would agree with you as well. Seeing as you two seem to be so into each other. If I were crazy, I'd think you were already in love." He studies Zayn intently and questionably. "Are you?"

"What?"

Suddenly, they hear the front door click and they both know it's Harry coming back in. Harry's father doesn't say anything. He doesn't push him for an answer either. He just quickly disappears from the kitchen like he never asked anything.

_What is this man talking about? I don't even like Harry. Let alone love him. Are we what? Are we in love? No, we are not in love. Please don't ever say that again._

Zayn's lips tighten at the thought of the four letter word, and he is prepared to just go to the living room, grab his things and leave when arms wrap around him tightly. "Hello Zayn. You finally came down stairs." he hears a whisper in his ear. It's Harry's voice.

He moves in Harry's arms and turns to face him. Harry's smiling at him and his teeth are showing. "Yeah, I'm down."

"Finally. I've been waiting for you."

Zayn stares blankly at him and then rubs his temple in frustration. "I think I'm ready to go. No, as a matter of fact, I do need to go. I need to get home."

"Why?" Harry looks a bit disappointed.

"Because I'm ready to go home. I've got a lot of things to do when I get there."

"But I wanted to spend the day with you Zayn. And I don't want you to leave now. Plus, my dad's gonna think we had sex and I wasn't courteous enough to let you stay longer. I don't want him to think that, so stay a couple of hours maybe?"

Time seems to stop, and now Zayn looks uncomfortable. "Wait a minute. Your dad knows we... Your dad knows what we did yesterday?"

Harry nods and Zayn's lips begin to tremble as he starts to panic. _No wonder he thinks we're in love._ "How does he know Harry? Did you tell him? Don't tell me you told him."

"No, I didn't tell him." Harry says both comfortingly and truthfully, but he also wants to know why this is bothering him so much. "He's my dad and he figured it out on his own. He probably guessed it when he saw you wearing my T-shirt or something. Or maybe when he noticed my wet hair."

"Or when he saw us kissing." Zayn assumes. He bites down on his lip and tears start to escape his eyes. "I don't really care about the kissing, I just really don't want anybody else to know about... the other, more serious, and private stuff that I've done and I don't need anybody to know. Only you know that. That was between us."

"I'm sorry." Harry mumbles. He still doesn't understand Zayn's scared and terror-stricken state. So when he sees him just standing there, eyes watery and red as strawberries, he pulls him in for a tight hug. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for him to find out. I know it's too late now, but I'll try not to let it happen again. I promise I'll try not to let anybody else find out about it. Alright?"

Zayn is quiet. He wants to scream at him and tell him sorry isn't enough. He wants to hit him and yell at him and he wants to curse him out so badly. But then he remembers that they are a little over 24 hours away from completing his plan. He can't screw it up all because he's upset that someone else knows he's a homosexual, and that's he's slept with someone one who is not just two years older than him, but a grown man. He has to stay focused. That's why he told Harry he believed him.

They continue to hug for a minute and then Zayn feels a pair of lips trail from his neck over to his lips. "Come on. Let's go into the living room. Stay with me a couple of hours and then you can leave."

Zayn nods his head reluctantly and allows Harry to take his hand. "Okay. "


	78. 78

Zayn ends up staying two and a half hours with Harry. And though they should have felt like the longest two and a half hours ever, they never did. For some reason, he enjoyed the cuddly, kissy, touchy feely type of Harry today. It was like a continuation of everything Harry did for him the day before. It was romantic and cute and dammit, Zayn doesn't think it's fair that the last day before he takes his own life is the day he is romanced like this. Why would it happen like this?

Finally though, Zayn just had to say enough was enough and he told Harry that he had to go. There was nothing Harry or Harry's father could say or do to make him stay longer. So currently he stands outside Harry's front door with Harry holding onto the collar of his shirt and kissing him.

"I'm always going to be loving the glasses. Guess that makes you my little geek." Harry says when he pulls away, and he sweetly kisses Zayn's cheek over and over. "Don't forget about tomorrow night."

Right then and there, the air seems to leave Zayn's lungs all at once. He realizes Harry doesn't even know he's just reminded him of his own fate-not that he forgot anyway-and it reminds Zayn that he has business to take care of.

_Sex was part of the plan Zayn. Remember? Don't let Harry trick you into thinking it wasn't. Remember all those times you thought it was real and he turned out to only pretend so that he could hurt you? That's what's happening. So stop it now. Get away from here before he has a chance to do it all over again._

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?" Harry asks. It's actually the third time he's asked now.

"Yes, I told you I'd rather walk. Which means I should be leaving now, because my mom is... probably waiting at home worrying herself sick over me." Of course he knows that's far from the truth, especially since she hasn't even bothered to call. But he has to use something Harry can relate to.

"You're right, you're right. I should let you go now." Harry grabs on to the straps of his backpack and tugs him forward one last time. He doesn't kiss Zayn though. He just looks at him and he stares down into his eyes. Zayn is amazingly still perfect to him. Even after everything he's been through and even after all the things Harry knows he put him through, everything about Zayn is still flawless.

It's been three school years now since the first day he laid eyes on Zayn. And sure, he may have had other intentions at first, that were totally opposite from the way he spent time with him the past couple of days. But that would never stop the simple fact that he had always admired the younger boy from the beginning. It won't stop the fact that he will continue to do that.

"I'll see you tomorrow." he says surely. "Nine o'clock."

Zayn gestures his head to say 'yes'. "Yep. Nine o'clock. Bye Harry. "Bye. Be careful."

"Okay." He let's go of Zayn's straps, and he watches him turn and head away from his home. He can't wait for tomorrow. He can just imagine how romantic it's all going to be. At least he wants to surprise Zayn and halfway make it romantic...


	79. 79

When Zayn gets home, his mother is nowhere to be found. He knows she doesn't have to work today, so he guesses she's probably just out and about, finding every reason not to be at home, per usual.

_Some mother she is..._

He shakes his head and locks the door behind him, then makes his way to his bedroom. He takes his backpack off and stands it up on the bed so he can open the pocket. He takes out the pair of handcuffs and the two keys and lays it all out on the bed. Next, he reaches in, grabs the camcorder and finds the power button to turn it on. After it makes a few noises, it shows the main screen.

It takes him a moment to figure out which button to press before he reaches the gallery. But it takes him an even longer moment to fathom what the words on the screen read.

**There is no media to** **displa** **y**

_What the fuck?_

"I thought..." Zayn mumbles and he scratches his head. He's confused.

He exits out of the gallery and represses the right button to get back to it, hoping for something different. Again, it says the same thing.

**There is no media to display**

"NO!" Zayn screams out of frustration. "That jerk... I bet he moved these videos somewhere else! And I know he's waiting to use them against me!"

He slams the camcorder on his bed, and because it's just a mattress, it doesn't break or harm it. Zayn's intentions were to take this camcorder and delete the videos Harry had recorded before anyone else found them. Now that's ruined, and he's going to need to bring the camcorder to the bridge tomorrow tonight.

_I will get to the bottom of this tomorrow. Harry is going to pay for this. He won't get away._

He sits down on his bed staring into space and by the time he actually starts to calm down, he realizes that he was so angry, he made himself overheat. So he rips off his T-shirt to reveal his bare chest and he tosses it nowhere in particular.

He takes the camcorder, the handcuffs(which still somehow haven't closed yet) along with the keys and throws it all back into the pocket of his backpack. He removes all his soccer attire and his books and just throws it all on the floor. He won't be needing them anymore. He had his last school day and his last soccer game on Friday After putting his backpack off to the side on the floor in front of his nightstand, he lays out in his bed. Today is his last 24 hour day. And so far, all he's been doing is spending it getting ready for his death.

Well... maybe that's technically not all he's been doing. His hand travels to his right manubrium, the space between his Adam's apple and his collarbone. Here is where Harry left a hickey today. He can't see it since he isn't in front of a mirror right now, but he is one thousand percent sure it's a deep reddish purple color. It happened when Harry's father had said he'd watch TV in his room to give them space. When Harry wasn't kissing him, he was sucking or biting on his skin there, and he had spent a lot of time on it. It was as if this very spot was the only place Harry knew about. Zayn wondered if he had done it on purpose so as to create a "you're mine" mark.

_But that's silly. I already have a "you're mine" mark. I've got Harry's fucking name scarred on my leg. At least that's what Harry says it means... That I'm his and that I belong to him._

Zayn closes his eyes and he yarns so deeply he makes a noise. He doesn't know why he's sleepy when he's only been awake close to 4 hours and it's only a little after 2pm. But maybe this hard work at keeping the plan on track is making him tired. Maybe it's draining him.

_I should probably sleep._

He turns over on his side and closes his eyes. He figures he might as well get all the sleep he can get today. He won't hardly be getting any tomorrow.


	80. 80

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...

Zayn casts his eyes over the burnt field that is painted with ashes. He's short of breath for some reason, almost like he's been exercising. So he bends over and places his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Glad you finally decided to stop, Zayn. Because I was going to suggest we stop here anyway." he hears and the voice sounds awfully familiar. So he turns round toward it. It's the figure.

He forgets he's out of breath and he starts to back away slowly. "Get away from me Harry. I know it's really you in there. He starts to look around for the six unidentified men in case Harry brought them with him again. But the figure says something to grab his attention. "No. You're wrong. I promise you I'm not Harry this time. He was pretending to be me. "Who are you then?"

"I'm the real one. I just rescued you, remember? Why would I rescue you from Harry if I was Harry?"

Zayn thinks about it. He won't state an answer. But it does make sense. However, he wants to know how this figure he's been seeing in his dreams since he was thirteen, rescued him from Harry. "What do you mean you rescued me from Harry?"

"I found those men right before they were about to hurt you and I took you away. We had been running away from there until you just stopped."

They had been running? Now Zayn understands why it's hard to breathe.

"Why?"

"Why were we running? To get away."

"No, I mean why did you choose to save me from Harry? And why were you going to suggest we come here?"

The figure walks over to Zayn and stands beside him. "They both have the same answer, actually."

"And what is that?"

"I wanted you to be able to say goodbye. The things you love should always get a goodbye before you go."

Zayn's eyebrows crinkle. "What do you mean?"

"This is the place you love. This is the only thing you've come to love as a kid. I know it's burnt and I know it isn't as beautiful as it used to be. But you should at least be able to see this place one last time. At least."

Zayn bites his lip and nods. No it isn't beautiful in physical appearance at all. But it's still beautiful to him. It will always be the place he escaped to, to get away from the real world.

"I won't say goodbye." Zayn says as he scrubs his feet on the ground just to get more ash on the bottom of his shoes. "I'm not ready to say those words."

"Why not? You are aware this is the last time you'll see this place right? Zayn nods. "Yeah, I know. But I don't want to say goodbye."

"What do you want to do then?"

"I want to sit down here, and I want to enjoy it one last time. Then I want to walk away and never look back."

Zayn hates the figure doesn't have a face, so he can't have any expressions either. But he guesses it's confused. "Are you sure that's all you want to do?

"Yeah." He sits down ignoring all the white powder coating his pants "You just want to sit here for a while, then walk away from it?"

"Yep, that's what I want." Zayn agrees and for some reason he's smiling very big as he takes in a chest full of the smoke scented air.

The figure doesn't say anything more after that. It doesn't do anything more either. It just sits down beside Zayn and follows his eyes out into the distance. Like Zayn, it decides it will take this all in as well. Because without the dark haired boy, this is going to be the last time it sees this place too.

•••...•••...•••...•••...•••...


	81. 81

"Zayn Malik! Wake up!"

 

Zayn is startled awake by his mother glaring down at him. Her hands are on her hip and she doesn't look happy.

 

"I'm up." he says sleepily. "Ma'am?"

 

"You are such a disrespectful little boy." she scolds through gritted teeth.

 

Even though Zayn had been sleep for two hours, he is now completely awake after those cruel words. "What did I do?"

 

"You disappear for nearly forty eight hours, then you just come back and go to sleep like I don't have a problem with that. What's wrong with you?!"

 

"I-I-"

 

"-You are so ungrateful! That's what you are." She interrupts. "I don't understand how I even managed to keep you this long. I should have taken you to live with your father before he left a long time ago."

 

Zayn has to pause and take a deep breath. Because if he doesn't, he's going to end up crying. "I'm sorry. I know I should have said something. I just forgot."

 

Lies.

 

"Tell me now then. Where were you?" She folds her arms waiting for him to speak.

 

"I had a soccer game, remember?..." he says cautiously and he slowly sits up in the bed. "And so afterward, I went and stayed the night at one of my teammate's house. That's it."

 

She grunts with displeasure because even though she knew there was a game yesterday, she has never been one to care about his soccer events. If his uniform wasn't free every year, and if the school didn't fund the bus trips for traveling to face other schools, Zayn could never afford to stay on the team.

 

"Who is this friend Zayn? Who is it?"

 

"Uh, H- uh, his name is-"

 

"-Wait a minute." She cuts in. "What is that?"

 

Zayn frowns. "What is what?"

 

She slowly walks over to him eyeing his body and it's uncomfortable. "This..." She bends down to get a closer look and when Zayn realizes what she's looking at, he cringes.

 

"It's just a bruise, that's all."

 

However, as soon as he says that, she uses a hand across his face. She slaps him so hard, it immediately turns red. "You liar! This is not just a bruise! It's one of those nasty little hickies from your homo partner isn't it?! Dammit, Zayn you are not going to be anything other than straight, understand me!"

 

Zayn's holding the side of his face. Tears are already falling. "Mom..." he mumbles looking at her. Because he's in shock that this is the first time she's ever hit him. "It was just a teammate... Just a teammate."

 

She shakes her head and growls out loud angrily. "It's Harry isn't it?!" she questions.

 

Zayn's eyebrows furrow because he wonders how in world out of all the names, this is the one she throws out there.

 

She must know something. She has to.

 

"What do you mean?" He sniffles. But he also flinches when she throws her arms out, thinking she was going to hit him again.

 

"Cut the act Zayn. Just stop it. I can't deal with the constant lying anymore."

 

Zayn doesn't say anything as she continues.

 

"One thing you are forgetting is that while I don't go to your soccer games, I still know you're on the team. And in case you don't remember, your coach mailed printed schedules for the fall and spring seasons to the parents at the beginning of the year, including me. Remember that?"

 

Zayn nods. But no, he didn't know that. She never told him.

 

She folds her arms and paces the room. "Yesterday, I came home because I wanted to take you to the store so you can help me pick up a table I saw in a thrift store. Of course, like always, you're nowhere near home."

 

You're one to talk. Zayn thinks, but his face yields the same blank expression.

 

"So instead I decided to wait, and I stayed at home for the night. When I woke up this morning you were still not home. I was so pissed, I actually went and looked for that schedule because I remember the coach had his number typed at the bottom in case I had any questions. So I called and he picked up the phone. I told him you didn't come home last night, and I asked if he knew where you might be or where you went after the soccer game. Wanna know what he told me?"

 

Zayn's eyes widen. He hopes she's not about to tell him what he think she's about to tell him. "What?"

 

"He said he saw you getting in the car with Harry as he was pulling out of the parking lot. He said Harry is your teammate." She pauses, then chuckles. But Zayn can tell she doesn't think anything is funny. "I was shocked actually. Because... You never told me that Harry was your teammate Zayn. You've always told me he was only a friend. You lied. Of course. Nothing new there... So after I got over that initial shock that I have a compulsive liar for a son, I had to pretend like I had just forgotten about you going with Harry, just to keep the poor man from panicking and having a heart attack. Nobody knows how much I wanted to throw up at the thought of me being okay with you going anywhere with that disgusting boy."

 

Zayn feels very restricted when it comes to breathing right now. He recalls telling her Harry was just a friend on Christmas day when he had come to pick him up that night. He purposefully hid the fact that he regularly saw him during his extra curricular activities too.

 

She gives him a harsh look. "I know you stayed the night at Harry's house. I know what you did with him, and I know that hickey is Harry's. So I want you to know that because of that, you absolutely disgust me to the highest degree."

 

"Mom-"

 

"-Don't speak! I wasn't finished."

 

Zayn starts crying harder. "But-"

 

"-I said don't speak Zayn! I don't want to hear it! There's nothing you can say or do right now to make me listen." She points at him and shakes her head. "You are an ingrate, you are a liar, and worst of all you are a repulsive homosexual. Therefore... you are not my son anymore."

 

Zayn's mouth parts a little and for some reason, this angry feeling suddenly washes over him. He doesn't know why it is, he just knows he feels the same way he did when he decided getting revenge on Harry was better than just simply taking his own life.

 

No, Zayn doesn't want to hurt her. He's not going to do all the horrible things he'll do to Harry. But he is going to do one thing the same. He's going to speak his mind like hell. He's only got one more day before it doesn't matter what she thinks. And he wants her know something:

 

"I hate you! You're a homophobe and that's all you've ever been! Yeah, I prefer boys over girls. I finally said it. And so what, I slept with Harry? You can't expect me to hate I did it or think it's disgusting when I fucking loved it and you can't make me be straight, no matter what you say! So if you can't except that, then fine! I guess I'd rather not be your son anymore."

 

Zayn stares at her and she stares at him in return. She doesn't say anything at the moment. She just looks at him and she glances at the Harry-made hickey at his neck. Right then and there, she makes a decision, one she knew she'd eventually have to make, but that she'd been avoiding. She's calm when she speaks again, but she turns away not wanting to look at him anymore. "Well then. If that's how you feel, that's the way it will be. And now that I know that, you should start packing your bags and getting your things together, because I'm calling Social Services on Monday."

 

She turns to leave the room without another uttered word. When she's gone out of sight, Zayn just turns over and buries his face in his pillow. He can't believe he's just faced the bitter truth. His own mother doesn't want him anymore. And sad to say, it doesn't sting his heart even a little, when he begins to realize it's very possible that she never even loved him in first place either.


	82. 82

Two hours later. It's 6:04.

Zayn sits in the middle of his room floor, crying and he's holding a plastic water bottle in front of him filled with cloudy like liquid. It's a perfect mixture of three household items: one, a yellowish cloudy color, the second, clear like water and the third, a small amount of pink. Yes, this is basically poison, but at least it's pretty.

Usually, this is the part where a person is trying to convince themselves this isn't the only option anymore. It's usually the part where they are ready to change their mind about dying because even though they feel like they don't belong on earth, they are too cowardly to actually take their own lives. It has happened so many times with other people. However, with Zayn, that isn't the case. His aura is calm and collective and nothing in his young sixteen year old mind screams, "I'm not ready for this!" He's ready. Finally after 3 years of waiting, he's ready.

He sighs deeply to himself, and all that comes to mind are the things that drove him to his point in his life; all the things that have come together and spelled out his impending doom.

His mother doesn't want him anymore and she won't even look at him because she thinks he's disgusting for sleeping with another boy. He keeps asking: _Why couldn't I have just for once in my life done something right? Why wasn't I ever good enough to her?_

But then he remembers that it really hasn't had much to do with being good enough at all. All his life he feels like he's never been noticed, even when he wanted to be noticed the most. He often wondered why people couldn't see him when he was always right there in front of them. Why they could never hear him when he was screaming out loud for them to save him. He figures he didn't deserve to be saved. Maybe boys like him only deserve to be invisible. Maybe they deserve to be treated in all the most horrible ways possible, until the only option left is not to live anymore. There being the only option Zayn feels he has left.

He thinks about the day he was raped, the nightmares that have derived from that day, and how pathetic he was for letting it happen. Yeah he knows he was drugged. But he still let it happen, right? He let Harry trick him and send him away to be both sexually and physically abused by six grown men. It's all his fault and his fault alone. He deserves to feel despondent from it.

Lastly he thinks about Harry. Harry has done everything in the book to him, and all the while, Zayn had his chances to speak up. In the beginning, Harry used touch him inappropriately over and over again. Zayn should have stopped him. He could've stopped him. He could've said no or told someone what he was doing. But he didn't, no, he was too much of a coward to do that.

And what about when he gave Harry that blowjob that day in the school showers? That's what started it all. That's when Harry pulled him back as he tried to leave, kissed him and then fucked him against the wall. It was too late say no then, because it had quickly turned into rap and then blackmail and just all out fear for his life. It turned into abuse and violence and heartbreak and somehow, in there between Zayn denying he liked his own sex and being forced to do things he didn't want to do, he reached a low point to where he actually started to love the way Harry made him feel. And he would like the ways Harry touched him.

"I was never supposed to love any of the things we did together." he mumbles and he wipes all those tears from his eyes. Because he knows every single thing he did last night with Harry, he wanted. And no matter how many times he makes himself think the sex they shared was just another piece of the plan, it wasn't.

Zayn let's out a frustrated noise that sounds somewhere near a grunt and a scream, and he wipes his eyes with the back of his hands. It's doing no good though. The tears won't stop falling. They just keep coming and coming and coming. Zayn didn't think he would shed this many tears when he finally did this. He knows now, that he was wrong. So wrong.

He looks up at the clock on his nightstand and it reads 6:11 which means he's been thinking for seven minutes. Well, it's time to stop thinking now. It's time to take action. It's time to stop being a coward for once in his life and show the world how brave he really is.

He shakes the bottle to make sure everything's properly mixed again and then he unscrews the top. It takes a moment to compose himself and stop his nervous breathing, but when he does, he pinches his nose with his index finger and with the other hand, he brings the bottle to his mouth.

Without thinking about it, he takes five large gulps and pulls the bottle away.

"Ugh." he says making face and holding the bottle away from himself. It's a horrible taste that reminds him of earwax, something he's accidentally tasted before. He doesn't know why he didn't consider this aspect of poisoning himself. It's simply awful. And it's a shame that he's going to have to do this again tomorrow.

He takes a deep breath, and after keeping himself from puking, he brings the bottle to his mouth taking more huge gulps. He finishes the whole bottle, only stopping once for air. And he just lays against the back of the bed.

_Gerrrrr_

That was his stomach. He's really hungry right now, but he doesn't want to eat anymore. He wants the poison to soak into his system right away and without any delays. He knows the quicker it's gets in his system, the quicker it will work on him.

He had looked up all the information on this before he even chose this route, so he knows what's supposed to happen and he knows what will come from this. It will take him some time, But it will work the way he wants it to. All that matters is the outcome, not the pain that will come about in the process Zayn has his eyes closed for a second when he hears a car's engine start up outside. He stands up and goes to the window, parting the blinds a little so he can peak out. He isn't really surprised too see it's his mother backing out of their driveway.

 _She's leaving again._ he thinks. _Of course she is._

He let's the blinds close and then throws himself down on his bed face first. He won't even try to get up anymore for tonight, because he knows from everything he's read, he'll feel a bit intoxicated within the next three to four hours. Therefore, he lays there and closes his eyes. This is about to be the second time he falls asleep today in five hours. But unlike all other nights, this isn't just sleep to him. It represents the last time he'll go to sleep peacefully and wake up the next day.

How symbolic this is.

A wave of calmness rushes over Zayn and he knows why that's so. He's excepting his death. He's excepting his ending and his last hours on earth. He never thought it would feel this good. Never thought this much relief would come from a simple decision. But it has.

And honestly, this is the most relieved he's felt in a very long time.


	83. 83

Harry's foster dad sits on the couch watching TV and sipping late night tea. It's sometime after 11 o'clock now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harry pass the living room entrance. So he calls out to him. "Harry."

A couple of seconds later, Harry peaks his head in and through the opening. "Sir?"

"Why don't you come in and sit down with me."

Harry gives him a puzzling look, but he still walks in with his hands deep in his pajama pockets. "Yeah?"

"Go on, sit down." His foster dad lifts the remote and turns off the TV. "I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. "I just don't think we talk enough. Sometimes it's good to have some father and son time. That way we can know what's on each other's minds. Don't you agree?"

Harry smiles in return and sits down. "Yeah." He watches his dad sip his tea and look at him admiringly.

"So... you and Zayn, huh?"

Harry grins crazily and bites his bottom lip. "Mhm."

His foster dad smiles and playfully punches his thigh. "Finally. Right? "Oh, come on dad. It's not like I would never find anyone." he laughs.

"I know, I know."

"So why are we talking about this again?"

"Because I'm happy for you. That's all. It's young love right now, and I know that, but it's still beautuful and it still puts a smile on my face."

"Really?"

"Of course. There isn't a reason why it wouldn't." But then he sighs and sits his cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of them. "But I'll be honest and tell you the real reason I called you in here is because I have a question for you."

"Oh, W-what is it?" he hesitates.

He has to get himself together before he actually speaks again. "I know you're eighteen and I know you can make your own decisions now because you are technically grown. But I at least hope that if you're going to be sexually active, then you're using protection Harry. Are you?"

Harry's grin is quickly wiped away, and his dad knows it means he didn't.

"Gosh Harry, I love you, you know that. So I want you to be careful and I want you to be make very good decisions everyday. You remember the birds and the bees talk, don't you?"

Harry growls lightly. He remembers the talk. It was only about a month after he'd been adopted when he started asking his foster dad about sex. His foster dad knew age 12 was usually very young to be discussing it in detail. But seeing as Harry's father had already ripped his virginity away from him, he sat down and explained everything about it, including the consequences that could come from unprotected sex. "Yeah, I remember it."

"Then I just want you to think about it and apply it. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I know. I won't get hurt dad. I'm okay. I know I'm okay."

He smiles at his son sympathetically and he pokes his own thigh. "Alright... I believe you.... And I also trust that tomorrow night, you'll be careful and do all the right things. Am I right?"

"Yes, you're right." Harry chuckles but he's really frustrated on the inside. "Can I please go up to my room now? I'm getting sleepy."

He waves a hand at him. "Sure, go ahead. I'll be going to bed later on myself anyway."

Harry hops up quickly. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning and I'll make us both a good breakfast."

"And that's totally okay with me." His foster dad laughs quietly and reaches toward the coffee table. He's so busy reaching for his cup of tea though, that he almost doesn't see Harry falling onto him and hugging him tightly.

"I love you so much dad. Thank you for everything."

He smiles brightly and pats his boy on the back. Harry deserves everything he's ever done for him. "I love you too Harry. I always will."


	84. 84

Zayn wakes up the next day and he has to blink a few times to get his eyes adjusted. His vision is a little unclear, and there is a pain shooting through his abdomen. He winces in pain.

He gets up from the bed, walking over to his dresser and there is a bottle of the stuff he drank yesterday, sitting on top. He couldn't sleep last night like he thought he would, so instead of going to sleep at 6:30, he got up and made another bottle of the cloudy mixture. He didn't really fall asleep until sometime after 10:30.

It is now close to 12 in the afternoon and he can't believe he slept for so long. He doesn't remember reading about this making him really drowsy, but that doesn't mean it didn't.

Just like yesterday, he unscrews the top and pinches his nose. He doesn't complain about the taste though. He just chugs it back, catching his breath two times in between. The only reason he's drinking a bottle of this for the second time is because he knows before nine o'clock tonight, what he drank yesterday, is going to come out when he goes to use the bathroom. Again, he wants it to stay in his system as long as it can. So he's replenishing it to make sure it does.

After finishing the bottle, he goes over to the window to find his mother is still gone. He doesn't know where that woman is, and quite frankly he doesn't care. He just wishes he could see her when she finds out he's dead. And he wishes he could see her face when she finds out it was due to suicide. He hopes she sulks in her tears for the rest of her life. She deserves it. She deserves to feel as much pain as he's had to feel.

In a way, Zayn wonders if he's being selfish though. He knows his goal is to make Harry feel his same pain, but now his mother too? Does not wanting to hurt alone make him selfish? Maybe. Does not wanting to hurt alone make him unfair? Possibly. But he can't think of any other way. Sometimes the way a person chooses is the only way. So that is the light in which he will look at it.

Zayn's stomach growls and he rubs at it softly. It's very miserable when he's feeling pain and he's hungry at the same time. But he remains resolved. _You're brave remember? You can do anything, including this._ He tells himself and it's really all he needs to say to keep from screwing everything up.

He looks down at the floor and his backpack catches his eye. He forgot he still has to make sure everything is in it and ready for tonight. But he needs to shower first. So he leaves the window, grabs a clean pair of underwear from his dresser and he makes his way down the hallway to the bathroom.


	85. 85

Zayn's laying in his bed and he's clutching his stomach pretty tightly. The pain is almost unbearable. He nearly wants to change his mind about all of this, but it's too late now. It's all in his bloodstream and there's no turning back. Especially since the clock reads 8:30.

He stands up and puts on his shoes, though it's very hard to tell how he's doing it, due to his vision getting progressively worse. He can still see despite it fading in and out. But his brain feels light to the point where it's actually making him dizzy.

 _I have to hurry up and get this over with._ If he doesn't he'll probably go into an unconscious state quicker than he anticipated. He grabs his backpack and puts it on his back. He scans the room one more time to make sure he hasn't left anything. He hasn't. He's all ready to go.

He stumbles down the hall, bumping into the wall because he's unable to get his bearings straight. He figures he better do better than this before he goes outside, or he'll stumble out in the street and get himself killed. Not that he will mind. He just wants to make Harry pay before he dies. So that can't happen.

"Where do you think you're going?" Zayn hears his mother say just as he passes through the kitchen. He didn't even realize she had come back home, but he stops to look at her. She is purposefully avoiding eye contact with any part of him, the same way she did after he'd told her off yesterday.

"I'm leaving and never ever coming back." He says confidently. Mostly to see if she'll care just once, before he's gone for good.

"Great. Maybe you can actually do me a favor for a change, so that I don't have to call Social Services and go through all this legal crap."

_Wow. So this is my mother? The woman who's responsibility is to raise me and take care of me? No, this isn't my mother. This is a_ _homophobe_ _and a witch and she was created to hurt me. I wish I had known that a long time ago. I would have never let her do it._

His mother continues to look at everything but him, and he knows that's his cue to leave. He isn't wanted or needed here. There is no reason to stick around. So he continues walking through the kitchen, then heads out the front door. He doesn't even look back as he begins treading down the sidewalk, making his way to the bridge.


	86. 86

"Dad, please quit stopping me." Harry whines, snatching his keys from the counter.

"I'm sorry, but you need to taste this before you go." He's stirring a pot of red sauce.

"Why?"

"Because this is a part of what you will be eating when you get back home. And so will Zayn if you do what I say and invite that boy back over here."

Harry growls and his step father frowns. "I really don't appreciate you being frustrated with me when I'm trying to make my boy and his boyfriend happy. At least be nice and do this you little knucklehead."

Harry chuckles, but comes over anyway grabbing one of the spoons from the drawer. Then he dips it in the sauce, blows it and tastes it.

"Mmm yummy. Good stuff. Now can I go?" He tosses the spoon in the sink and his stepfather just shakes his head, laughing.

"Where's is the date going to be?"

"I told you. The old bridge. But please don't show up. "I won't."

"Or sneak and hide while watching us from a distance, Because you won't need to do that. I'll call when I'm leaving."

"I won't. I promise. I'll be here getting things ready, and waiting for your call. Maybe even eating. I just want you two to use your brains, as well as protection this time." He shoots Harry a warning glare.

"There'll be no need for protection because we won't be doing anything." he cheeses "Yeah alright, Harry." He looks at the watch on his wrist." Oh, it's already nine o'clock and it takes a few minutes to get there. You better hurry or you'll be even later."

"It is?" He whips out his cellphone and sees that it is. "Oh shit, I've gotta go! Bye!" He says scurrying out of the kitchen and running down the hallway.

"Bye! And watch your language!"

"Sorry!" Harry's rushing to his car and he's moving so fast he accidentally slams the door to the house. He hasn't been this excited to see Zayn in a while. 'A while' meaning, since that day he found Zayn in the hall, pulled him into the janitors closest and ended up giving him blowjob.

However, tonight he's excited because he knows it's not about that. It's  not about anything sex related as a matter of fact. He just wants to show Zayn he cares about him. He wants to show him he's more than what Zayn has seen from him or what he probably thinks he is. Harry has a heart.

Sure, it's deep down in the hardened shell he's created over the last four and a half years, but it's there nonetheless. It's also soft and it's mushy and it's set on Zayn. Harry can't wait till he reaches that bridge. This is going to be one of the best nights of his life. He can feel it. He can feel it to the point to where he has little tingles running through his body and to his fingertips. He usually only gets those when something bad is about to happen, but he knows it can't be that this time. Not with Zayn.

So he gets in the front seat of his car and checks his hair and face in the mirror of his visor. He looks good enough. Now it's time to get to Zayn. He's got a surprise for his princess. And he wonders if Zayn's whole reason for inviting him here is because he has one for him too.


	87. 87

When Harry pulls up on the bridge, he sees a figure bending over the side of it. It's hard to see, since he's halfway under the only working light, but he guesses it's Zayn. No one else would have reason to be here at nine o'clock.

He parks the car about 15 feet away from him and he gets out of it. He can hear coughing that sounds excessive, but it doesn't really pique his interest.

"Zayn?" he calls lightly, just to be sure.

The figure finally turns his way and answers in a pained voice. "Yeah. It's me."

When he hears that familiar voice, he smiles and reaches in the car to grab something. He doesn't notice Zayn walking over to him with one of his hands behind his back.

"You're late Harry." he says.

"Yeah, I know."

"Seven minutes late."

"I'm sorry. But I have something for you that hopefully, will make up for it."

Zayn coughs and mumbles something to himself when Harry shows him a plastic bag. But he takes it from him with the hand he isn't hiding.

"So why are we here, on the bridge like this? What's the purpose?" Harry questions. "I have something for you."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, but I want you to open that first. I want you to see what I got you."

Zayn frowns because he doesn't even want to look at it. He doesn't give a damn about what Harry got him. He didn't come here for gift giving. But he can still use this as lure. "Then, we should go directly under the light, so I'll be able to see it clearly."

"Okay. But I want a kiss first." Harry states looking down at him sheepishly but somewhat adorable. Zayn rolls his eyes, but puts on a smile so as to appear playful, then leans forward and upward to kiss him. He was originally going for a quick peck, but Harry holds him there a little longer so he could savor the moment.

"I know it'll be late when we finish, and you might not want to, but my dad wants you over for dinner tonight." he tells him when they separate. "Would you like to come?"

Zayn coughs and begins pulling Harry with the same hand the plastic bag is in. "He does?"

"Yeah, and I want you to come too. You don't have to worry about needing to get back home afterward. Cause I'll take you straight back home. I don't mind doing it."

They quickly reach the only source of light and Zayn stops underneath it, turning to facing Harry. But now his heart is beating fast because he knows what he is about to do. "So...you said you'll take me straight home?"

Harry nods. "Yes, I will. Straight home. I promise."

"Pinky promise?" Zayn asks pushing it further.

Harry chuckles at how childish it sounds. "Pinky promise." But as soon as he holds his hand out and extends his pinky, Zayn drops the bag and grabs his wrist tightly. In the matter of a few seconds, Zayn has cuffed one of Harry's wrists in one side of the cuffs and the other side is cuffed to the railing of the bridge.

"What the fuck?! Zayn what are you doing?!" Harry asks yanking at the cuffs. But he knows he won't be going anywhere seeing as these railings are grounded in concrete.

"This isn't funny. What are you doing? Are you... Oh my gosh..." He pauses and looks at Zayn who is bending over and holding his hand over his abdomen. "Where did you get these cuffs?"

Zayn gives him a harsh look, then goes over to his backpack, something Harry just noticed was even there. He unzips the front pocket "Did you not hear me talking to you?! Where did you get these cuffs?!" Harry screams.

"Sit down and shut the fuck up Harry." Zayn says.

"Not until you tell me where you got them! Because these are my dad's aren't they?!" Instantly, he is met face to face with a steal blade, and his eyes grow big.

"Sit down... and shut up." Zayn says again, but it's a warning tone like no other.

Harry slowly sits down, but he doesn't take his eye from the knife.

"Where's your phone?"

"It's uh, it-it's." Harry is speechless, but Zayn doesn't have time for stuttering. So he presses the tip to his nose.

"Where is it?!"

"In the c-car. In-in the console." Harry says and at this point, he's terrified. He hasn't been this terrified since he lived with his real father.

Zayn leaves Harry there, then goes to the car and opens the driver side door. He finds it there where Harry said. So he takes it and goes back over to Harry.

"What do you want with me?" Harry asks. "Please tell me this is some kind of prank. Is it Zayn?" He's really hoping it is. But when he sees Zayn hold the phone out over the bridge, he's knows it isn't a prank. "Zayn... what are you doing with my phone?"

"Why did you do it?" Zayn asks and if it wasn't for the pain in his voice, he'd be cool and collective right now.

"Why did I do what?"

"Don't play stupid with me or I'm dropping the phone now! Why did you do it?"

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Harry shouts louder.

But Zayn matches his tone. "I'M TALKING ABOUT EVERYTHING! WHY DID YOU DO EVERYTHING YOU DID TO ME?!"

Suddenly there is silence. Zayn has actually had times where it became so quiet it could make him crazy, but this one takes the cake. "Answer me Harry. I'm giving you two seconds!"

"Because I wanted to! That's why!" he hollers.

Despite getting an answer, immediately when Harry says that, he drops Harry's phone over into the raging waters below.


	88. 88

"YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Harry tries to get up and get over to him, but the handcuffs are doing the job. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!"

But Zayn doesn't answer him. He just sits down against the side of the bridge away from Harry while he clutches his stomach. Harry notices how he won't stop coughing. It causes his demeanor to soften for a moment.

"Zayn what... What's going on? What's wrong and why do you keep coughing?"

Zayn is quiet. He drags his backpack over to him and he reaches inside for something. When Harry sees what it is, he is more shocked than he was when he noticed the handcuffs. It's his camcorder. "How did you get that?"

"You don't get to ask questions, Harry. Only I do. Now, where is the video?"

"What video?"

Zayn sighs impatiently, then picks the knife from the ground where he left it so he can hold it to Harry's neck. He isn't going to argue about this. "We're gonna try this again. Where is the video of me that was on here?"

Harry turns away from him. "I deleted it."

"And then where did you put it."

"I said I deleted it. I didn't _put_ it anywhere."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not. That's the truth!"

"Hmph." Zayn takes the camera and he flings it over the bridge.

"Are you fucking crazy?! I just got that camera for my birthday! You're paying for that!"

Zayn wants to laugh, but laughing hurts his abdomen too much, so he just gives him a smile. And in reality, it's the smile that seems to have scared him more than Zayn think his laugh ever could.

"No, I'm not going to be paying for your camcorder Harry. That wasn't part of the plan."

"What plan?" Harry's scoffs.

And though there's the feeling of discomfort that comes with it, he still manages a chuckle. "Oh that's right. You don't know. I should probably fill you in. After all, you are the whole reason this is plan is even a thing."

Zayn opens the largest compartment on his backpack and pulls out a journal. Harry doesn't know anything about why he has it or what it could be for. But Zayn is perfectly familiar with it and he knows what the purpose of it is.

He flips the pages in it until he reaches the right one. "Aha." He says like it's a surprise. And after fighting through the blurriness in his vision, he begins to read from the list.


	89. 89

"One... _Make Harry want me._ " Zayn frowns. "This step was the hardest and it also makes me angry. Because all you had to do was stop trying to pretend to care about how I felt and just like me for once. I didn't need time or want space and I certainly didn't think it would take sex for you to like me. But I guess that just shows how much of a horrible person you are and how all you care about is wanting one thing."

Harry gives him a confused look. "What?... So all this time, that was just a-"

"-Step two. _Buy a knife._ " He holds up the knife. "Did you know this knife cost me one hundred and thirty five dollars plus tax? Came with a sheath and everything. Well technically, it didn't cost me. It was my mother's money. I stole it off her credit card. I wish I could be there to see what she thinks when she sees that one hundred and fifty dollars just magically vanished. Harry moves away from Zayn at those words and pushes his back flat up against the side of the bridge.

"Three. _Get inside Harry's house._ That was only accomplished after step one, but my goodness Harry... Like I said, I basically had to give you an invitation to fuck me just to be able to do that. You used to bring me in your house all the time. You wouldn't even let me go home some days. But I guess, I wasn't not good enough for anyone to like so giving you my body was the only resort."

"No, that's not true-"

"-Step four." But he says it louder to send a message to Harry that he isn't happy about constantly being interrupted. " _Take his handcuffs and his camcorder._ You made that so easy. I just took them when you went and had your shower after we did our little... whatever you want to call it. Then I threw everything in my backpack before you came out and I pretended like nothing happened.

"Your phone was actually something else I wanted too. Especially after you took all those horrible, horrible pictures of me when I was bleeding and handcuffed. But I had to wait until now to get it, or else you would have suspected it was me when you couldn't find it, and you probably would have found out I took your other things too. I couldn't risk you knowing I was planning something."

Harry can't bring himself to believe any of this, even as Zayn is speaking. It's hard to fathom a 16 year old boy being capable doing these things, yet alone Zayn, his princess.

"Five. Hmm." But he squeals that out, because his stomach feels like it's on fire, while someone is stabbing him with a spear. "Five says to _get Harry to the bridge._ Obviously that worked because well..." He shrugs for effect. "you're here, at the bridge. Six. _Make and drink the poison._ "

Harry's eyes grow big, but he doesn't say anything yet.

"Did you know if you look up ways to kill yourself on the internet, it'll actually tell you?"

Harry shakes his head. "No. "Well, did you know bleach and rubbing alcohol make chloroform?"

"No."

"I didn't either. That is until the internet told me. And in the process of all that, I found out that consuming methanol through the mouth and in large amounts is bad and can kill you quickly. And methanol is found in rubbing alcohol. Can you believe it?"

No answer.

"So I just poured it all in a bottle and added a little antifreeze which I found in the garage and I drank it yesterday before I went to bed and today when I got up. I can't believe that out of all the things on that list, I had the guts to intentionally poison myself. But now that I have, I'll be the first to tell you that it doesn't feel pretty at all. It hurts like hell and I just want it to be over."

"You're joking Zayn..." Harry whispers.

"Nope."

"But you can't Zayn. You can't do that. Why are you purposely making yourself sick?"

"Shut up Harry." Zayn says annoyed. "You're worried about the wrong thing anyway. Because step seven is way more serious and you might want to hear this."

"What's step seven?" Harry asks and his shaky voice gives away how terrified he is. "What's seven Zayn?"

"Are you sure you're ready for it?"

"Yes, tell me!"

Zayn doesn't even look at the paper this time. " _Kill Harry._ "


	90. 90

Harry's breath hitches in his throat and his chest seems to tighten. "Kill me? Why would you wanna... Zayn please... I... I don't understand."

"This is payback Harry." he says stuffing the journal back in his bag. "This whole plan is about payback. Payback for everything you've ever done to me. Those times you raped me, those times you touched me without my permission, those times you cuffed me and wouldn't let me go... All of it. You're going to die for what you did to me."

Harry's eyes begin to prickle with tears and it becomes hard to see, he tries to reach out and touch Zayn, but Zayn is just enough away from him that he can't. "I... I..."

"You're what? You're sorry?" Zayn guesses. "Is that what you were gonna say?"

Harry shakes his head and wipes away falling tears. "I can explain Zayn."

"And why would I want to hear your pointless explanation? And on top of that, when I asked you earlier, you said it was because you wanted to. I don't need to hear anything else."

"No, I lied! If you would just listen to me-"

"-And why would I want to listen to you when you never listened to me Harry? I gave you chances to stop and to change, but you didn't. You never would."

"WAIT! PLEASE STOP!" Harry screams at the top of his lungs when Zayn reaches for the knife. "Zayn please don't hurt me! I never wanted things to end up like this! I wanted to hurt you, but not in that way, please let me explain what I mean. Just... just don't hurt me. Please."

Zayn pauses to look at him and takes a moment to think. Sure, he isn't going to change his mind after Harry explains. But one thing he never understood as all those things were happening to him, was why Harry did it. Why did Harry touch him inappropriately? Why did Harry hurt him in all the ways he did? There had to be a reason for it. Because things that cruel don't happen without a reason.

So as much as he wants this over and done, he decides he wants answers just as bad. And perhaps getting answers to all of his questions would grant him the last little bit of peace he might need in order to know that killing Harry is okay.


	91. 91

"Alright. Explain yourself." Zayn says standing up and looking down at him. He folds his arms, but doesn't let the knife go. "Explain why you hurt me."

Harry frowns, then looks down at the ground. "I didn't want any of this to happen today and I didn't think it would ever come down to this. I just wanted you to feel what I felt. That's all."

"Get to the point. Because this vague talk is making me want to kill you even quicker."

"I'm saying there was a reason for this. One that nobody knew." He sighs and shakes his head a little and now tears fall for a different reason. "I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted it all to be a secret. I didn't want anyone to know what my father was doing to me when no one was around."

Zayn raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"He was such a horrible person. The things he did to me... it terrified me. He was such an evil man and I swear I lived everyday in a shell because of him." Harry wipes his eyes. "It kind of began when I was a baby. I was too young to remember my mother, what she looked like, or what she sounded like. But I do know she was a drug addict. Everything she did revolved around getting high. Including when she left me alone with my dad. My dad said she left him to go live with the man who'd provide her drugs all the time. But he never stopped her from leaving him because they were never married and he really couldn't."

Now Zayn is more confused. "I feel like you're lying to me."

"I'm not, I swear. All of this really happened."

Zayn paces back and forward in front him speaking in a strain. "Get to the point then."

"I'm trying."

"Well try harder!" he says and he reaches down putting his hand across his stomach. "Time is wasting."

Harry's lips tremble. He really hopes Zayn will understand his side. "When my mother left, everything was okay with us at first. I guess... as far as I could remember. Then one night, when I was six years old, I heard somebody come in my room and the light turned on. My father had just sent me to bed, so I wasn't sleep yet. He grabbed me out of my bed, took me down the hallway to his room and laid me in his bed. I thought I was going there to sleep, but no... He made me touch him places. Places no six year old should ever see on another man. Especially their father."

Harry sniffles and wipes his nose. "That night, whenever we were done, he told me it was our secret and he told me that if any other boys and girls found out, they would make fun of me. He also said that if I ever told an adult, someone was going to take me away and hurt me badly. I was scared it would happen. I was horrified. So I kept my mouth shut.

"Every other day after that, when he felt like it, he'd touch me where ever I was. It wasn't limited to his bedroom anymore. The more it went on, the more things he did to me, and the more I learned about my body, as well as his."

At those words, Zayn stops pacing to look down at him questionably.

_Wasn't limited to his bedroom._

He remembers having sex with Harry in the back of his car on New Years. The locker room and janitors closet come to mind as well.

_The threat of people making fun of him._

That reminds him of the day he told Harry he was quitting the team, and Harry told him not to because he was going to tell everybody what he did.

_And then Harry learning about his body._

Zayn learned his true sexuality because of Harry. This all sounds so familiar. And now he wants to hear more. "Then what?" he coughs out.

"I wasn't even twelve then, so there were certain things that I couldn't do that he could do, and like you and I can now... if you understand what I'm saying."

Zayn understands what he's talking about. Harry was too young to have an orgasm.

"But he didn't care. When I was eleven, I lost my virginity to him. He forced me to do it, and when I didn't want to sit still and take it, he had these handcuffs, which he'd more than likely probably gotten from some online sex shop for his sexual pleasures, and he cuffed me to the bed and raped me. I felt so disgusting afterward. I cried for days.

"But you know... after it happened once, it was hard for him stop. He kept raping me, time after time and I sat there and I did nothing to stop him. Now I know that I should have, because things just kept getting progressively worse. One day, he drugged me and he sent me off to a bunch of men for a couple hours. He told me I had to be good for them, because it was the only way we were going to make the money we needed and he said if I didn't, I'd be in trouble with him. So I did."

Harry wipes his eyes with the back of his hands and he cries harder. "I let them touch me and do whatever they wanted. It was the most horrible feeling in the world. I'll never forget it."

Before he can say anything else, Zayn is bending down at him and his hand is at his collar, jacking him up against the bridge. "You liar! You're lying!"

"No, I'm not lying! I swear on everything!"

"This sounds like everything you did to me! Why are you twisting it and making yourself the victim? Are you serious?!"

"I'm not! Well, I mean I'm serious, but I'm not making myself a victim!"

Zayn then presses the length of the blade to his neck. He speaks through gritted teeth. "Are you forgetting that I've met your father, Harry? That man doesn't look like he can hurt a fly. He's a fucking police officer!"

"I know but-"

"-Then I should kill you now!"

"NO PLEASE!" he cried out. "You haven't let me finish!"

"Then finish Harry! Finish and stop dragging it out, or I'll kill you without hearing your shitty explanation! Got it?!" Zayn stands up and scowls down at him.

Harry squints his eyes and huddles against the concrete away from Zayn. There is a stinging sensation on his neck and when he touches it with his unrestrained hand and draws it back, he can see a dark color on his fingertips. It's blood, and that tells him Zayn must have held the knife too close to his skin and cut him.

"He isn't actually my dad okay?! I'm adopted. He was just the police officer who arrested my dad. But when he realized I was going to be orphaned, he took me in and adopted me. I was twelve then. I promise! These are not lies!"

Zayn grunts, but lets Harry continue.

"I spent my childhood being so angry. I was angry at myself, angry at my dad... I was angry at the whole world!" By now Harry is bawling so hard, tears are falling into the corners of his mouth. "I only did it because I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to be the only one who had to suffer that way. And now I'm not alone. Don't you understand how I feel now?"

Zayn gives him a suspicious look and he kneels down to study him hard and long. "What do you mean... you didn't want to be alone?" He has a thought come to his mind and now he's wondering if it's on target.

Harry hesitates. "I-I..."

"What do you mean?! Answer me!"

Harry cringes when the knife is pointed at his face. "I only did those things because... because I wanted someone to hurt like I had to hurt. And that someone happened to you."


	92. 92

In an instant, Zayn manages to stand up and kick Harry as hard as he can in the gut. Harry cries out in pain. "You son of a bitch! How could you Harry?! You only did that because you were selfish?! Because you didn't want to suffer alone?!"

"Zayn, I-"

"Shut up!" Now Zayn paces even angrier. He feels weaker than he had before and he can't even see very clearly because of the poison taking away his vision, but Harry's figure is there and he wants to choke him now.

"Everything you did to me! You raped me. You forced me to do oral things with you that I didn't want to do. You threatened me, you tricked me, and you put a knife through my skin!"

"I know." he mumbles between sniffles.

"And it was all because you didn't want to suffer alone?! I can't even... UGH! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!"

"Look! I'm sorry it had to be you! I know I was selfish and wrong, but it was all I could think of to make myself feel better! I will apologize that it had to be you. But I'll have you know that I am not sorry for what I did to you. I won't apologize for that. I don't feel any guilt for it."

Zayn's mouth parts and he stops to look at him. He can't believe what he's hearing. "Are you mental Harry? What is wrong with you?"

"I'm not mental."

"You have to be. How can you just sit there and say something like that to me?!"

"No, I'm not mental! Don't say that! And... And you're the one cuffing me to a bridge and threatening to kill me! So you must be just as crazy!"

Zayn grips the knife tighter. "This is your fault Harry! You are the reason this is even happening! Gosh, I can't believe you. You hate me that much that you'd do that! Why did I ever expect anything more?!"

"No, I don't hate you." Harry assures. "I don't. I like you Zayn. I really, really like you."

"Bullshit! You don't like me. If you liked me, you wouldn't have done any of those things to me. You would have never given me away to those horrible people who raped me and beat me. That is not what a person who likes you does!"

"I know that, but I tried to correct myself. I tried to make it right after everything had happened. When they hurt you, I took care of you. I really wanted to keep doing that afterwards too, but you ran away."

"I ran away because that's what people do when they're scared, Harry!"

"Yeah, but that's what I didn't want you to be. I wanted you to feel protected." Harry remebers the way he found him outside the warehouse that night and he feels sick to his stomach.

"How could I ever feel protected with you? All you ever did was hurt me. Everything you did Harry. Are you stupid or what?!"

"No, I'm not stupid. I told you I tried. That night when I saw all those marks on you, it made me so angry. So when you fell sleep, I went out and got him back for you Zayn. I went and found him and I punched him in the fucking face! I wanted to kill him, but I only ended up leaving him bloody and half dazed. The reason I did that was because they hurt you. I promised you I wouldn't let anybody hurt you again. Not even me, and I meant that! That is what protection is."

Zayn shakes his head, wanting to believe everything he's hearing, but he can't bring himself to do it. He won't even give himself time to. So he dives at Harry, planting his knees on the concrete on each side of him, and he snatches Harry forward by the collar. "I don't need your so called protection! I hate you! Don't you understand that?! And it's too late to be nice to me. It's been too late! You haven't changed my mind either. I've heard your explanation and now you will still die for what you did to me!"

"Zayn, please just wait a minute!" Harry says trying to push at Zayn's shoulder with his one free hand. "Wait!"

"I've waited enough!" He adjusts the knife in his hand, then draws it back and up.

"STOP IT! DON'T KILL ME! ZAYN I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME! HE'S TRYING TO KILL ME!"

Harry closes his eyes and screams for his life, preparing for the knife to pierce his skin. He's not sure where Zayn is aiming for. He just knows he won't be able to avoid it or keep it from happening. Not when he's cuffed to a bridge and especially not when Zayn is sitting on him and basically holding him down.

Still fighting and pushing, after a few seconds, strangely enough, Harry realizes there is no more resistance against him. No one is smacking his hand away or holding him down either. It's just really quiet. And not only that, the knife still has yet to cut into him. Why? He is afraid to know, but he is equally curious too, so he barely opens his eyes and looks up at Zayn. Confusingly, the knife is still there in the same position it was in when he closed his eyes. Almost like Zayn was about to stab him, but had somehow changed his mind at the last minute.

"Zayn." he says and it's in a whisper because he's scared to say anything to tick him off.

But when Zayn doesn't reply to him, even though his eyes are wide open and looking down at him, Harry knows something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong.

He is about to open his mouth to call his name again, when suddenly Zayn suddenly drops the knife beside them and falls forward onto Harry, forcing the older boy to try holding up his dead weight.

"Zayn what are you doing?" He asks.

But there's no movement and the younger boy doesn't acknowledge he heard him.

"Zayn?" He taps Zayn's body and pushes at it. "Zayn! Can you hear me?!"

Yet, it is all still to no avail.

"Oh my gosh!" He panics and he pushes Zayn sideways and backwards since it's the only way to see his face. His eyes are closed now. "Did you faint?! Zayn wake up!"

However, fainting is the last thing Harry really should be concerned about when it comes to Zayn. Because he is totally unprepared for what is about to happen next.


	93. 93

Harry reaches out to touch Zayn's cheek, when suddenly Zayn's body begins to shake. And it scares him something awful because this kind shaking isn't a just small tremble, shiver or tremor. Zayn is shaking wildly, flopping sort of like a fish and he isn't even doing anything to stop himself. And even then, his eyes are still closed "Zayn, what's happening?! Stop it!" he shouts. And he's trying to grab him and get him to lie still. It isn't working. Zayn's body convulsions are grave and Harry knows he's having a seizure.

So what does he do when a person is having a seizure? He read once that he's suppose to turn the victim on his or her side or stick a towel in their mouths to keep them from choking on their tongue. But Harry doesn't have a towel. So he struggles to try to turn him over on his side with one hand Zayn barely turns enough at all. In fact, he falls sideways off his lap a little, and Harry is unable to stop his head before it slams against the pavement causing his glasses to crack and fall off.

That makes Harry let out a belting scream and he fumbles to pull Zayn toward him. After another few seconds of seemingly fighting with him, everything finally turns calm and Zayn stops shaking.

Harry looks around frantically and down at the boy. His eyes are still shut. "Zayn?"

No answer.

Harry's face turns sour-like and his bottom lip pokes out a little. He feels so helpless and he hates that feeling. This reminds him of those days and nights he spent being terrified of his father. Harry thought he would never get away. He thought he'd be stuck being touched by his father forever. But along came a hero and he saved him. Harry wonders if a hero like him would save him now. Correction... save them.

Blood trickles from Zayn's forehead where he hit it on the pavement and for some reason, even though Harry had just seen his own blood earlier, he can't take it. He can't take seeing something like this from Zayn. Not his Zayn.

He wrestles to pull Zayn closer in his lap and he's able to prop Zayn against the bridge and his body, so that his head touches the bridge and his shoulder is pressed against Harry's chest.

Harry sniffles and hiccups, and he wipes his eyes so he can see clearly. Once he is a little more calm, he stares down at the boy. So many questions run through his brain. Is Zayn alive? Is he breathing? Is he going to be okay? Harry feels so helpless not knowing the answers to those questions.

"Are you gonna wake up?" He asks softly, yet hopeful. But for what feels like time number one hundred, there is no response from him. Only Zayn laying there and not even acknowledging him. So he just runs two fingers downward across his chin and he speaks softly to him.


	94. 94

"I'm sorry." Harry whispers. "I should have never picked you. If I had known it'd be like this, I would have left you alone in the first place. I would have never targeted you." He is actually thankful Zayn isn't conscious enough to know he's getting tears onto his clothes. But to be honest, he prefers this, rather than having Zayn want to kill him. He'd rather be holding Zayn, even if it means he can't hold him when he's aware of it.

"I wish you'd wake up. I wish you'd tell me how you're feeling. Because I want to know. I want to know what's wrong." Harry uses his thumb to rub some of the blood away from the cut on his head. "Dammit, I hurt you... I know I've hurt you so many times before this, but this hurts worst. I was such a shitty boyfriend to you." Harry wonders if Zayn's heart would flutter the way his just did, hearing that word for the first time. Maybe not.

"If you wake up... I promise to be good and everything. I'll... I'll never hurt you ever again. And when you get well from... whatever it is you've obviously done to yourself, things can be the way they are supposed to be. The way they should have been in the beginning."

When Harry says that, he wipes his eyes on the back of his wrist. What hurts him so much, is that there is no confirmation of the things said. There is no confirmation that Zayn will be alright. And there is no confirmation that even if he does recover from this, that they'll ever be what Harry hopes they would be. This stings so badly. It hurts like hell.

He gives a tug at the cuffs one more time, and ultimately gives up. He knows, just like he knew when Zayn first cuffed him, that he isn't going anywhere. He is confined to this railing right now. So he may as well stop moving around.

He huddles over Zayn as if it's cold outside; as if he's shielding him from everything bad.

He knows asking for help obviously is no good, and so is screaming out. Therefore, he doesn't even try that anymore. He just continues running his fingers through Zayn's hair in a soft, soothing manner, having no choice but to wait patiently until their hero arrives.


	95. 95

Harry has just been sitting here now. He's just been sitting here holding Zayn for 20 minutes. Which means it's been over 20 minutes and he still hasn't awakened, spoken, or even moved. Harry isn't sure if he's just unconscious or if he's holding a dead body by now.

He's in the process of combing through Zayn's hair and picking at his clothes, when headlights shine on him from the front. It takes him a minute to recognize the car, but when he does, he's not quite sure if he's relieved or feeling regret. As the car nears, he scans the scene around and spots the knife next to him. Without hesitation, he picks it up and flings it over the bridge and into the water.

The car comes to a halt right next to them and out jumps a man. "Harry, what the heck is going on? Are you handcuffed to the bridge?! Now he thinks that maybe it's both relief and regret he's feeling. But definitely more relief right now. His hero is the same one who's always been his hero. "Dad, please we need help! Zayn's hurt!" he shouts.

His foster dad rushes over and looks down at the boy in his arms. "I had a feeling something wasn't right when I called and texted your phone and you didn't answer."

"That's because I accidentally dropped it over into the river." he lies. "I'm sorry."

"The river? What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into?" Harry doesn't answer this time and his father's attention gravitates to his cuffed wrist. "Wait a second, are those my handcuffs or what? What are you doing with my cuffs Harry?"

"Okay dad, please, you're too worried about the wrong things right now! Can't you see that Zayn isn't okay? Get him to the hospital quickly!"

His foster father nods and bolts back over to the car where he opens the passenger door on the driver's side. Before Harry realizes it, his father is already back over to them and lifting Zayn off of him, carrying him to the car.

"Dad, you should take him and come back for me. I'll be alright. I don't think anyone is gonna bother me here."

"Are you kidding me?" his father says, once the door is closed with Zayn safely in the car. "You're still my responsibility. And if I can get you free right now, I will get you free. Just give me the key. Where is it?"

Harry shrugs. "I don't know where it is. Maybe you can check the backpack over there... But hurry."

He looks in the direction Harry is pointing. "But isn't that Zayn's backpack? Why would the key be there if these are my cuffs?"

"Just hurry! Please, stop interrogating me and just look for it! He's in the car and we are sitting here wasting time and asking pointless questions!"

Any other time, his father would have warned him about his tone towards him. But he understands how scared Harry is. And he knows he's truly scared because he's seen Harry in this position before. "Alright, Harry." He goes over to the backpack and he opens a really small pocket on the side. He fiddles for the key with his two fingers since that's the only thing that fits, but doesn't feel anything. However, the small pocket up front, the pocket he opens next, are where he finds keys. "There's two here. I better try them both. And I believe these are my keys too."

Harry is quiet as his father tries both, the second one ending up being the right one. When he's finally free, he looks at his wrist and kisses it when no one is looking. His father doesn't know how close to death he came tonight. And maybe now that the shock is dwindling down, Harry is just now realizing it too.

Harry grabs Zayn's backpack and broken glasses, and after telling his dad he'll leave his car there and get it later, he jumps in the backseat next to Zayn. He wishes his dad was driving his police cruiser at the present time, so that he can convince him to turn on his lights and speed them to the emergency room. But he isn't. So he settles for shaking his leg impatiently as they drive off Harry studies Zayn and notices that his father actually buckled him in. Of course he did. He's an officer. Why wouldn't he? But besides that, he also can't help but notice how he doesn't really see Zayn's chest rising and falling as an indication that he's breathing. Does that mean he isn't alive? Does that mean he's sitting next to a dead body?

There is a 50/50 chance both ways. But he likes to think that Zayn is alive and that allows him to slip his hand in Zayn's just so their palms touch He can't believe this boy was going to kill him. This sweet, caring, 16 year old boy. Thinking of that unsettling and somewhat distant memory, reminds him of the list Zayn was reading from earlier. That's when he sticks his hand in the large compartment of the backpack, and he removes the journal from it.

By now, they've gotten to the city, meaning more traffic flow, so streetlights shine down in the cars as they travel. The journal is still opened to the page and his eyes travel down to number 7 just to confirm that it's real. It's actually there, which means Zayn wasn't lying. He had planned on killing Harry.

However, even though Zayn had supposedly shared his plan of revenge with Harry, he left out one more step of it. And it's written down at another number.

Eight... Zayn never said anything about an eight. So Harry silently reads the two words written neatly on the line.

_Kill myself._

He gasps a little, but he isn't sure why he is so surprised at this. He understands this probably just means he's going to end up dying because of the poison he took. Which is more than likely why he said to Harry: 'time is wasting'.

But even more than that, this tells Harry that Zayn knew. It tells him Zayn carefully thought out this plan some time ago and he knew all this would happen very soon. Zayn was aware he'd be in the state he's in now, whatever state that may be. And though it should be comforting to know Zayn wants this and has wanted this, it isn't. He's still selfish. He wants Zayn to be alright. He wants him to live and he wants them to live together, not alone.

No doubt, he wants to rip this list up and never ever see it again. He wants to hold a lighter to it and watch it burn to ashes. But while he knows Zayn is here by his side and possibly not breathing at all, he wants to enjoy this moment of unsureness that he has. He wants to bask in it and how good it feels to be next to the only person he's ever wanted; the only other person he's ever attempted to allow to have him emotionally. No one other than Zayn Malik So he finally closes his hand around Zayn's and squeezes it as tightly as he does his eyes. And the whole time he's just sitting there, shaking, thinking, pondering and waiting; wondering if he'll ever squeeze back.


	96. 96

Tonight was supposed to be romantic. Zayn was supposed to open what Harry had given him and he was supposed to kiss him and thank him and they were supposed to eat dinner at Harry's house. Harry had plans.

But now as they sit here in the waiting room of the hospital, he thinks about how he purposely left the bag he had given to Zayn. How he glanced at it as he was grabbing Zayn's backpack and glasses, but never once thought about picking it up or taking it with him. He doesn't want it anymore.

He realizes his full name is on a "love" note which he'd carefully tucked away into a envelop and he knows Zayn's full name is there too while he talks about how much he adores him. But he wants someone to find it. He wants someone to pick it up and read it because if Zayn can't know, he wants them to know that all the times he apologized in that letter, (17 times because he counted before he licked the glue), he is truly sincere. And though there are no specific events in the letter or no carefully worded occasions of all the things he has done to Zayn, the message is clear: All the feelings he ever had were real. They were never just a way to get back at his past life.

Among that note, were other things, things not exactly trivial, but not too important and probably would have been thrown away soon anyway. But they were Zayn's and he should have been holding them in his hands right now. Harry can't stand the thought that he isn't.

It's so disheartening to be here: The place he has to wait, after he's just explained that Zayn had a seizure while he was in his lap. The place he has to wait after he had to explain how Zayn obviously poisoned himself with three specific items. And it's the place he has to wait in after he's pulled the doctor away from his father, and explained that they shouldn't be alarmed by some odd scars they will eventually find on one of Zayn's legs.

After he pushes the idea that they may see the scars and end up thinking Zayn is his crazy, obsessed, psycho boyfriend, out of his mind, he finds himself drifting off to space and guessing when the night will be over so he can hide away upstairs in his room. A good sleep won't make this go away. But it sure will be a hell of a past time.

He's nervously chewing on his fingernails when an elbow hits his rib cage. "Ouch... What was that for?" he whines.

"Dr. Livingston." His father whispers more perky, but still a little frightened. "I just saw her talk to a nurse at the desk in the window."

Harry looks up to see her making her way toward him in a defeated manner. "I see her too." he replies and they shove each other a little to stand up straight as if they want to be the first to hear the news. Good or bad.

"What's going on doctor?"

"How is Zayn?"

"Is he dead? Don't tell me he's dead."

"Was he breathing?"

"Harry. Officer. Please." she says.

"Oh, you don't have to call me officer. I was just um... yeah." He may or may not have flashed his badge to get everyone out of his way on the way in.

"We'll, sir... I... I have bad news and I think you two should step over here and sit down for a moment before I tell you. Just to be sure."

Immediately something in Harry's stomach flip flops as he bends down to pick up Zayn's backpack. He feels nauseous and maybe the room is wobbly too. But then again, it could just be him because the whole damn night has been traumatizing. And now on top of that, more bad news? There is no way tonight can get any worse before the clock strikes 12.

They follow her gesture to a couple of chairs away from everyone else in the waiting room. She's wearing scrubs, so she's able to bend down in front of them and place her hand on Harry's knee.

"I hate to say this... especially about a 16 year old boy." She takes a 3 second pause, and Harry thinks it's because she wants to cry too. "But I need to be honest with you. Zayn is in really bad shape right now and it isn't looking too good."

"What? What do you mean?" Harry questions as he puts the bag down on the floor in front of the chair beside him. And even though the tears have all dried up, his eyes are getting blurry again.

She turns to him specifically. "You were right, Harry. We ran multiple tests on him for the three household items you told us he took and his bloodstream was full of the toxins. The amount that we found is so alarming and... and this tells us it wasn't consumed by accident. As a result, these toxins are destroying him and right now, it's left him comatose. His organs are rapidly shutting down as we speak. His liver is severely damaged and his kidneys are not too far behind. His brain has shut down, leaving him unconscious and his heart... It's getting weaker and weaker. He barely has a heartbeat."

"I don't get it." Harry says finally allowing himself to cry again, even though he clearly does get it. There is just no way this can be true. "What are you doing to help him then?"

"We're trying to do everything we can. Trust me. But these chemicals, they're getting to him quicker than we can administer him treatment and the chance that he'll recover is slim to none. We will continue to treat him with medicines, and we will keep trying, but with many of his main organs failing like this... he'll likely die before he even wakes up from his coma."

"Alright," Harry's foster dad chimes in and his voice is hoarse. That can only mean one thing. He's desperately trying not to cry. "I know that having a lot of toxins in your bloodstream can't be good at all. But is there any hope? I mean... are you saying there's no hope for him?"

"No, not at all. There's always hope in situations like this. But in his case, the chances are very, very low. The doctors give him an 8% chance he'll make it through."

Harry shakes his head, because not many people beat those odds. Not with failing organs that are needed to live.

"So how long do we have?" Harry asks angrily. "How long before he's dead? And don't sugarcoat anything."

He stares at her with tears running down his face and she looks between the both of them. "Right now, we're looking at a time period between now and the next 24 hours at the most. The reason we've come to that conclusion is because once a person's system has completely shut down and no longer wants to be responsive to treatment, there is nothing we can do. And since that is the condition he's in right now, there is nothing more we can do than what we're already doing."

Harry sighs heavily, then suddenly jumps up, making her hand fall off of him.

His foster father looks at him in surprise, and back at the doctor again. "Excuse us for a more moment."

"Sure, no problem."

"Harry." he says discreetly so he doesn't disturb others. "Harry." But he's constantly being ignored and Harry has already rounded the corner anyway. He jogs a little so he doesn't lose him and when he exits the waiting room, he sees Harry opening a wooden door and darting inside. He keeps walking until he reaches it, and he sees it's just a handicapped restroom. He knows Harry isn't here to use the bathroom. So he's not going to stand outside and wait for him to come out. That could be another hour from now. He turns the doorknob and finds that it's open. So he pushes open the door and walks inside.


	97. 97

It's only a single stall bathroom, so he spots Harry right away, standing with his forearm against the wall and leaning on it.

"Go away." Harry says. "I know it's you, dad."

But he just locks the door behind him and stands there. "I can't go away. I don't want to leave you alone."

"But you're supposed to be going to Zayn's house to tell his mother what the doctors told us, remember? Go do that."

"I will. But not when I don't know if you're going to be okay staying here alone. I don't want you to do anything crazy."

Harry sniffles and cries some more. "I'm not going to do anything crazy. I just... I can't believe he'd do this to himself. And I can't believe I'm gonna lose him when I haven't even had him long." It's all barely audible, but his father still catches it.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"He never told me." Harry continues. "So I didn't know. Maybe I should've just stopped doing everything sooner. Maybe I should've told him how I felt earlier. Why didn't I? I could have prevented him from doing it."

"Hey now... You stop that." His father assures in a calm voice and he walks over to him, rubbing his back. "You can't put that all on yourself. You're only eighteen. He's probably always had that looming over his head. Maybe now, he just finally did it."

"No. That's not what happened." Harry says.

"You can't say that, now can you? You can't possibly know what was going on in his brain before you met him. Sometimes people hurt inside for so long until one day, they just can't take it anymore. Maybe that's what happened to him."

"No, You don't understand!" Harry is still crying and he shakes his head, still not turning to his father. "That's not it and I know it's not it because I was there!" he sighs speaking calmer this time. "It's all on me. I just wish I had done things better. I should have been better to him. I didn't know things would be this bad. I thought he'd..." He closes his eyes for a second because he has to keep his composure so he doesn't end up spilling out the truth about everything that's ever happened between he and Zayn. "...it doesn't matter now."

"Harry. Is something going on?" his foster dad questions, because he's known Harry about six years now, so he can tell when Harry is holding something back from him. Just like he can now. "What happened on that bridge tonight?"

"Nothing. It's... Just... It's nothing."

"Does 'nothing' explain why you were cuffed to the bridge with my handcuffs and why Zayn had the keys in his backpack? Does it explain how you got that cut on your neck. I'm lost here."

Harry shakes his head. "Dad, please."

"I'm sorry. But you are giving me no choice but to wonder what's going on. Why are you so bent on being responsible for this? Why do you want to be blamed if he dies?"

"Because I just can't see how I couldn't."

His foster dad softly puts his hand on Harry and forces him to turn his body away from the wall to him. "Look at me Harry."

Harry looks at him but only for a couple of seconds because it's hard to focus eye to eye. His dad doesn't force him. "Whatever guilty feeling you have going on inside that brain of yours, you need to remove it as quick as you can. You've got your whole life ahead of you. You've got a future and a great one at that. Feeling this way is only going to take you down and swerve you off course and you've come way too far for that. You know this."

Harry looks him in the eyes finally. "But it hurts and it hurts so bad. I really liked Zayn and I wanted to give him everything. Besides you, he was the only one who ever made me really happy. But I can't kiss you."

His foster dad chuckles and that does make Harry smile a little through his tears.

"Did you ever tell him, Harry?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you love him."

Harry gives him a look of confusion and disbelief. "Dad, I don't... No I didn't tell him that."

"Why not?"

"What do you mean 'why not'? Because I don't love him."

"You sure about that? I might not be married or anything, but I know love when I see it. I've felt it before. And now you're gonna tell me that after you two were all loved up on Friday and Saturday, that you're not head over heels for him? I refuse to believe that. You do love that boy, but you refuse to admit it. But you want to know what I think? I think he at least deserves you telling him that before he's gone even if he won't ever hear you say it. And you know that too."

"But dad, I-" Harry tries to protest when there's a light lock on the door,

"Hold on a minute!" His father says. "Who is it?!"

"It's me, Doctor Livingston. I need to see you."

"We need to answer it." Harry panic whispers and he runs to the door, pulling at the handle roughly. "What's wrong with this stupid door?! It's not opening!" he growls.

"That's because it's locked Harry." His father says intervening and opening it for him. When the door swings ajar, the doctor is standing there with a serious look on her face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I had asked the other doctors if they saw two men run out of the waiting room and they said you came in here. I don't mean invade privacy."

"No, it's okay. Is there something you were trying to tell us? Is there more news on Zayn?" Harry's foster dad asks as they both step out into the hallway with her.

Harry sees her swallow hard. "No, I'm sorry. I was just coming to tell you that if you would like to go see him, you can do that now. He'll be just down the hallway in room 225."

"Yes please." Harry responds quickly. "I want to see him."

"Then you may. But keep in mind his condition when you go. And if you see anything different happening with him, you hit that nurse button next to his bed right away, okay?"

"Yes ma'am. We will. Come on dad, let's go." He pulls at his fathers wrist, but when the doctor is gone out of earshot, his dad puts up resistance. "No, Harry. I... I think you should go alone for this."

Harry stops suddenly. "Go alone? Why?"

"Because..." He takes his hand out of Harry's and runs it through his short hair. "I think that's best. Harry, you know that in my line of work, I've seen a lot of kids. Some I've arrested, some I've rescued from others..."

Harry looks away, thinking about himself.

"But something like this, kids dying I... I've seen enough of it and I'm not going to do it willingly this time." He smiles lightly and he brings Harry's head to him, so he can kiss his forehead. "I love you. You're my boy no matter what, alright? I've been raising you since you were twelve so I know you've taken after me in some ways, and I know you're brave enough to get through anything.  You believe that too, don't you?"

Harry looks up at him nodding, his eyes blurry from his most recent crying session. He reaches up to touch his fathers hands which are still on the sides of his face. "Do you think... Do you think I could ever be a police officer like you? You know, like protect people and stuff. Stop all the bad people from doing bad things to good people."

His dad chuckles. "Yeah but... Are you serious or just pulling my strings?"

"No, I'm serious." Harry says. "I think I might want to do that. I think I might want to save people too." Harry watches his dad light up because he knows just how long he has been waiting for him to follow in his steps; knows how he constantly hinted at how he wanted Harry to want to be like him.

"Then of course you can. I know you can." his father says abruptly pulling him in for a hug. And before he knows it, he's actually tearing up at the thought of being a great role model for him unlike his real father. "That's my son." he says. "You'll always be my son."

Harry wraps his arms around his father and he closes his eyes. He normally never ever hugs him like this. Not with two arms, and especially not this tightly. But tonight he is. He needs something like this and he needs this because it defines the way he's always been comforted whenever he was in a dire situation. How lucky is he to always have it in a time of need? In this time of need.

So this is the way it goes. The two of them standing in the hallway and hugging each other for as long as they can. And though his foster dad knows he'll have to let go and get to Zayn's mother as fast as he can, he won't rush this moment. Therefore, he stands there as long as Harry will allow him, and he holds him until they both stop crying.


	98. 98

Harry closes the door behind him and finally looks over to the bed. Zayn's laying flat on his back and he's got tubes and cords protruding out of him. He appears to be sleeping peacefully like a normal person would be this time of night; like Harry should be. But in reality, all it is, is an appearance.

Because when he makes his way over to him, and he hears the slow, agonizing beeping sound of the heart monitor, he knows this isn't really what peace is like. And it couldn't even be close to it when the little mountain peaks on the monitor show the rate of his heart is moving very, very slow. Then too, if one wants to be technical about the whole situation, all this is doing, is confirming that Dr. Livingston is right. His heart is getting weaker by the minute.

It seems that till this moment, Harry didn't want to believe those words. It was like he knew it was true, and he knew Zayn was in one of the worse conditions imaginable, but he somehow figured things could be alright. Maybe they would be. Maybe 8% could turn into 20% and then 20% to 40% and before long Zayn could be standing with him and walking out of the hospital with him hand in hand.

However, now that he's seeing Zayn, and now that he's eyeing the huge patch they've got over his forehead from where it hit the pavement during his seizure, it tells him that 8% is only going down and there's only a matter of time before eight becomes zero. So he's telling himself not to cry anymore now, to be strong, so that he's prepared when the worse happens.

He walks over to the bed and he's also holding Zayn's backpack since he'd grabbed it from the waiting room for fear that someone might steal it.

"I got your glasses." Harry says, and he reaches in the backpack, picking them out and unfolding them. "They're kind of crushed and broken but... I still think you should have them since I like the way you look in them." He leans over and puts them on Zayn's face. They're a little crooked and bent, but it doesn't matter because Zayn's not going to need to see out of them anyway.

He sits his bag down by the bed and he smiles down at him. "I hope you know that it is possible for you to still have my protection. Even if you hate me and even if you want to kill me. Because right next now, I'm trying to protect your reputation as best as I can. I threw the knife over the bridge before dad could see it. And I tossed your journal in the trashcan on the way in the hospital. Unless someone's going around snooping through the garbage, they won't know what your plans were. And if my dad asks me why you had the keys to cuffs that belonged to him, I'll just say I loaned them to you, or some shit like that. Can't let him go around for the rest of his life thinking my boyfriend is a thief and an attempted murderer. Oh, gosh, no... No way I'm letting your name be tainted like that." He laughs down at Zayn hoping for a laugh in return, but he immediately becomes discouraged when he sees there is still no movement from him and that Zayn is laying perfectly still.

So he grabs his hand and he holds it tightly. "Remember that day when we were upstairs in my room and I seemed kind of upset that you were talking to that girl? The truth is, I was very upset, I was angry. But I was only angry because I was jealous. I didn't want you talking to anyone but me." He shrugs his shoulders and rubs the back of his hand with his thumb. "The only reason I did that is because I liked you. I still do. I guess I just assumed you would automatically know that. Apparently I was wrong because... you tried to kill me. Had it planned out and everything."

Harry's stomach begins to feel queasy at the thought of how scared he was tonight, when it was all happening. But now, he wonders if it's better to have Zayn secretly trying to kill him without him knowing, rather than to have him in this state. At least he would know that Zayn is okay and breathing fine.

"I was just thinking earlier, too. This shouldn't be you. You shouldn't be lying here hurt like this because you're a good person and I don't understand why bad things always happen to good people? Why does the world work that?"

He chews on his bottom lip, knowing he's just labeled himself as a bad person, seeing as he was the one who had caused this for Zayn. "So I think I'm going to be a police officer just like my dad. And I know you'd probably call me a hypocrite or something, but I think I'll go to school and do something better and actually be better. Maybe change some things. I don't know."

It goes silent for a moment, mostly because Harry is thinking about the ways he could make the world a better place. How he could start by putting away one criminal at a time until the world no longer consisted of people like him. It's a huge challenge that more than likely will never be accomplished. But it doesn't hurt to dream and at least by dreaming, he can see for himself how a lot of men and women first get that urge to become a police officer in the first place.

"Want to know something interesting?" He waits for a second as if he'd get a response. "My dad thinks... He thinks I love you, and he thinks you deserve me at least telling you that. And no, I'm not joking. He really does believe that. But... the truth is... I don't want to say it because I don't want to be wrong. I've learned that just because someone says they love you, doesn't mean they always do. And just because they touch you in certain ways and make you feel really good some nights, that doesn't mean they love you either. Sometimes they're only doing it to be selfish and disgusting and frightening. Even when they know it's wrong. Harry glances at the heart monitor when it stops beeping momentarily. But right as he looks at it, it begins again and he let's out a collective breath as he opens his mouth to continue speaking.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't know what love is. I know that I always tell my father that. But I don't know what love is when it comes to somebody I like as more than friends. How is it even supposed to feel, you know? How do I know if it's love? What if I'm too young? What if you're too young? What if everything that's ever happened to me, was telling me I could never actually be loved back, and so I should never even bother trying? I think about those questions sometimes, particularly when I'm alone, but there's just way too many that I haven't figured out the answer to so... So that's why I can't say it." He reaches over to stroke Zayn's hair. "And I'm sorry that I can't say it."

Harry sighs as he looks down at the boy and he brings his hand up so he can bend down and kiss it. He takes the time to let his lips linger slowly as he kisses each finger, each knuckle and each fingertip. He's not sure about his body temperature, because it could be all in his head, but Zayn doesn't feel like normal Zayn. Zayn feels like he's cold. He feels like everything Harry doesn't remember him feeling like, and feeling something so unfamiliar like this for someone he's known for three years kills something living inside of him.

"Why are you so damn cold? I bet it's how cold they keep these hospitals. It's like they want to freeze us out of here..."

Harry let's go of Zayn's hand and scans the bed. All of the tubes that are hooked to him, seem to be coming from the other side of the bed and it doesn't look like he can mess anything up. So without a second thought, he lifts himself up and climbs in the bed with Zayn laying on his side, figuring this would keep him warm. He stretches his neck upward so he can kiss his cheek and he smiles a dimpled smile when he feels how it feels against his lips.

"If I had known our kiss on the bridge tonight would be our last kiss ever, I'd have kissed you longer." He whispers. into his shoulder and the hospital gown they put him in is so thin, he imagines it as being his bare skin instead. That makes him smile for the moment because it brings back good memories. Memories he'll always cherish and keep long after Zayn is gone.

After that, there is no more talking, no more whispering, no more anything. The only sounds that can be heard, are the humming machines and the slow and lagging beep of the heart monitor. However, Harry doesn't want to hear any of it. He wants to just block it all out. So he closes his eyes and puts his mind in a better place. Preferably some place where Zayn is alive and healthy.

But for some reason, no matter how hard he thinks about this, his home is all that comes to mind. Home is the last place he ever saw Zayn where he was 100% okay. Home is where he wants to be right now, as he sits at the table across from Zayn maybe eating what ever it is his father made. Home is his safe place. So home is what he falls asleep thinking about.


	99. 99

Harry's father steps out of his car and up to a house located at the address Harry had given him. He'd described the house to him very well before he left the hospital, so just by looking at the front of it, he can tell he is at the correct destination. He walks up the sidewalk that leads to the front door and when he gets there, he stands with his fist frozen on the door to collect his thoughts for a moment.

_How do I approach her? How do I tell a mother her son is on the verge of dying? How will I calm her and comfort her? This is going to be so hard._

Of course this isn't the first time he's come to a home in the middle of the night bearing this kind of news. On countless of occasions, he's had to be that person. He's had to be that one to have a free shoulder to cry on for those times. And being that it was his job and he had a care for people, he did what he had to do. But knowing this boy is only 16, and knowing the affects this'll have on Harry, the boy he calls his son, this time seems so much more different than all others. He feels like he not only has to get this right, but perfect. It needs to be perfect so that hopefully whatever guilt Harry is still feeling, can be put out and pushed away. That's what he wants for him.

He finally makes up his mind to knock on the door and he knocks hard, but at the same time not too loud. He wants her to hear him over whatever it is she's doing. But at the same time, he doesn't want to startle her while waking up the neighbors, and their dogs too.

He waits there patiently, hands crossed in front of him, badge in one hand, and after waiting 30 seconds with no answer, he knocks again. This time, it's only a few seconds before the door is opening and as it's opening, he hears a voice speaking that resembles frustration and impatience.

"So you decided to come back Zayn? I thought you said you weren't... uh... who are you? And why are you at my door after 11 o'clock, waking me up out of my sleep?" She closes her robe over her pajamas and glares at him. "You need to leave. I will not hesitate to call the police."

"No need to do that ma'am. I am the police." He holds up his badge so she can see it clearly.

"Okay, I guess it looks real. So..."

"Are you Zayn Malik's mother?"

She thinks on that question. "I gave birth to him, yes."

He sighs deeply and he prepares for a dramatic reaction. "I have bad news for you ma'am and you should sit down for it."

"No." She immediately says. "If Zayn's in jail because of something he did, then that's too bad. He left on his own and without telling me." she lies. "I don't deal with hardheaded boys. So if he didn't do anything too serious, I _might_ think about bailing him out tomorrow when I get off from work."

His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head in disagreement. But he tries to stay calm as long as he can. "No ma'am. That's not it at all. Zayn is nowhere near a prison. That's what I came to tell you. So I need you to sit, so I can-"

"-No sir. I'll not be sitting. What is it?"

This time he doesn't try to ask her anymore. It's clear she doesn't want to let him in. "Your son is in the hospital. He had a seizure earlier tonight. It's evidently because he poisoned himself and... and the doctors are saying he has less than 24 hours to live."

She just looks at him now and though he was originally confused at her behavior when he mentioned Zayn, ultimately, this is what totally throws him off. "Okay."

_What?_

"E-excuse me?"

"I said 'okay', officer."

But why isn't she crying? Why isn't she breaking down? Why is it that he seems more concerned than Zayn's own mother?

"Well, I-if you'd like ride to the hospital, I'd be glad to take you ma'am. I'm sure you'd want to get there as soon as possible."

"Actually um... How are you even standing at my door to tell me this, when you aren't even in uniform? Did they call you out of bed or something, just to do this? I could have sworn police officers actually work at the station at night too." But the tone of her voice and the slight smile in her face tells him that she's only changing the subject and turning it on him. Especially after she'd already admitted the badge was real.

"Ma'am, it was my son who was with him when it all happened. They went out to the bridge for a date. I didn't know Zayn had snuck out of your house without your permission to do that, or else I would have told Harry not to go. And I'm not entirely sure myself, what or how everything happened, but if we get to the hospital, I'm sure Harry would be willing to explain everything to you."

Suddenly, at the mention of that name, he has her attention and she leans forward. "Did you say 'Harry'?"

"Yes. Zayn's boyfriend. You know him right?

"I don't know him personally no, but I sure have heard some thing's about him from Zayn. And unfortunately, I'm not too pleased with any of it." She points at him accusingly. "Your son is the main reason why I cannot even look at Zayn. I knew he was a bad influence the moment he picked my son up that night and I knew it was a matter of time before he changed Zayn. He was fine without your boy getting in his life and messing everything up. He was good.

"But I'm not going to sit here and sulk over him when he lied to me about everything or when he went behind my back just to break the news to me months later that he likes being a homosexual. Zayn is not my child anymore. I am not his mother anymore. And as far as I'm concerned, a man who just let's his kid go around changing people and wrecking homes, shouldn't even be allowed to be an officer either."

Once she is done speaking, she folds her arms and looks at him, her lips pressed in a thin line.

Harry's foster dad can only stand there. He can only look at her as he takes in everything that's just unfolded in front of him. He wants to do something and punish her, but what? She's about to lose her child. Isn't that enough? Then again, she doesn't care. Does he arrest her for child neglect? He can't. He has no actual proof of that accusation. There's no law saying she has to be in the hospital with him, just because he is a minor. And if Zayn snuck out without her permission and she didn't know it, it isn't really fair to arrest her anyway. Is it?

Honestly, no clear answers are coming to his mind right now and he is so appalled by her, that he can barely form words, yet alone a complete sentence. "I guess you'll... I mean... later you'll.... Goodnight ma'am."

He turns away from the door, walking as quickly as he can and he hurriedly jumps in the car. He rests his hands on the steering wheel for a moment and he ponders all the things having to do with Zayn. No wonder he resulted in taking his life. His own mother won't except him. He can't imagine him coming home and being looked down on by his own flesh and blood. Something like that, is an unsought reason for a person to finally say enough is enough. That's more than likely what Zayn had done.

He turns on the ignition and slowly pulls off, so he can get back to the hospital with Harry. At least if Zayn's mother won't be there for him or show her son she cares, he'll be there to make sure the things that need to be taken care of, get taken care of. He'll be there for him just like he was for Harry. Someone needs to be. He at least deserves that.

*

*

30 minutes later, Harry wakes up to a steady beeping noise. It's irritating as hell, and damn, whatever it is he wants to rip out the cord to make it stop. What even is that?

He opens his eyes, expecting to find something in his room making the noise. Like an alarm clock or something. But then he realizes... He isn't in his room. And the beeping noise isn't coming from any alarm clock either.

He sits up in the bed, trying not to fall off and when he finally gets his bearings together, he turns toward the sound of the annoying beeping noise. When he locates which machine in the room it's coming from, something seemingly gets caught in his chest and it's a tight feeling that's making him feel like he can't breathe.

"No." he whispers as he slides out of the bed and takes a step towards it, because the source of the sound is definitely the heart monitor and the rectangular screen isn't showing little mountain peaks anymore. It's showing that Zayn is flat lining "No." he says again.

And he looks back at Zayn because _how long has he been flat lining?_ How long has he been dead?

Instead of pressing the nurse button as he was instructed to do, he panics, grabs Zayn's backpack and runs out into the hallway where nurses and doctors, including Dr Livingston, are.

"Help me please! I think Zayn's dead! I think he's dead. You've got to help now!"

When they hear the 'd' word, they become frantic and doctors start bolting toward the room. Dr. Livingston is the first to get there. Harry tries to run back in the room behind her, but one of the male doctors blocks his way. "I'm sorry, but you need to wait outside while they handle the situation. Please follow instructions."

"But that's Zayn. That's my boyfriend in there! You have to save him!"

He peeks around the man to see her instructing the nurses who ran in behind her for a defibrillator just in case. But that's all he's able to catch before the door closes and the male doctor is giving him a stern unappreciative look. Harry runs his hands through his hair anxiously and as he looks to his right, he sees his father coming.

"Dad! You're back!" He yells as he scrambles to run to him.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"It's Zayn! He's dead! It just happened." By now, Harry's already crying again. So much for being strong. So much for not crying anymore "What?" He puts his hands flat on Harry's shoulders as if it'll help him understand what's about to spill from Harry's mouth.

"The machine. It was beeping fine at first. I promise. I was talking to him and everything was okay and then the next moment it wasn't. I don't know what to do. I don't even know what's going on in there. I just want to go home now."

"Okay, okay." he says trying to seem more unperturbed by everything even though on the inside he's breaking into pieces just as much as Harry is. "We'll go home. But we can't just leave and leave him alone. We can't do that. You know that."

"Then I want to hurry this up so we can go home. I don't want to be here anymore. I hate hospitals so much." He says hiccupping for air. "Especially this one."

"I know son. I don't like them either. But I'm here now. Everything will be alright. Okay?"

"I'm scared though."

"Why are you scared?"

"Because I don't know what's happening in there. What if they can't save him? What if this is really it?"

"First of all, I don't know what's going on in there either, Harry. But whatever the outcome is, I don't want you to be scared about it."

"Why not?"

He looks around and finds it very convenient that there are 3 chairs lined up in the hallway a couple of rooms down, so he leads Harry there. He sits in one, Harry sits in another next to him and he holds Harry close to him as he consoles him.

"Let's both be reasonable about this situation for a moment because it's the only way you're going to understand. As an officer, I've learned there are three types of people in the world Harry. You've got people who save others, people who need to be saved, and people who can't be saved. I'm only speaking the truth and let me tell you, with all the years of experience that I have, I still have to remember that every now and then, there will come a time when I'll eventually come across a person who just can't be saved whether mentally or physically or emotionally. That's just the way it is.

"But what's most important, and the biggest thing I want you to take from this is that just because it becomes too late for a person to be helped onto the right track, that doesn't mean they never wanted a better way out or that they were too weak to survive in this world. Sometimes they want one, but they just can't see it because it's so carefully hidden out of sight, that they just give up waiting and they make a way out. But it's why you and I have to remember something: no matter how hard we try and no matter how hard we blame ourselves for something like this, there are things we cannot change and things we cannot prevent regardless of what we think.

"While it's okay to cry and be saddened, because trust me, I know it's going to hit me sooner or later too... Don't let it weigh you down. Don't let it scare you. You have to remember that even though we know there was a better way, this is what Zayn wanted. He felt like this was best. He must've felt he'd endured for way too long without any help. So he made a way out and he saved himself. I don't know about you, but I think making your mind up about something like that takes mental strength and dedication. And for that, I think he's braver than anyone of us who's ever known him is giving him credit for. Even you, Harry."

When he finishes with his short speech, Harry looks at him with a half smile plastered on his face. His foster dad has always had a way with explaining certain things so that the impossible made sense. He wonders who even taught him that. Harry fully knows he attributed to the reason Zayn feels like he had no other choice but to kill himself, but his father's words make him feel a little better about losing the boy he likes and although he still feels guiltless about everything he's done to him, looking and thinking about things from his father's blind point of view makes make him feel a little less pain too.

"Thanks for that." he croaks out. "I think I feel a lot better now that you've said that."

"Good. That's what I'm here for. I would have never taken you in if I wasn't going to be here to comfort you when you need it. And you'd better believe that I'm not going anywhere now."

Harry nods after that last sentence and he doesn't say anything more. But he doesn't need to.

His father knows he believes him and trusts that what he says is true. He doesn't need to prove anything to him either, because it was already proven true the day he adopted him. He'd never tell him anything wrong or steer him in any wrong way. And it feels great to be able to bring that kind of assurance to a person even when he's off duty.

As for Harry, he has a good idea about what kind of news he will get when the door reopens. But he thinks he's ready for it now. He thinks he can handle anything they will have to say. His father's wise words, though very petrifying and a bit deranged to even associate with Zayn, make so much sense. Perfect sense.

So he sits in that hallway chair completely silent, as he holds tightly to the handle of Zayn's backpack, preparing his heart and mind for it. Maybe this time, he really won't cry.

He's just taken a deep breath and calmed himself down when he looks toward the door where all the doctors have gone in to tend to Zayn and he partially sees the door slowly opening along with Dr. Livingston coming out of the room. He stands up with his father who also sees her and they both slowly make their way toward her.

Somewhere halfway between the distance, they meet. And when she shakes her head and reaches out to touch his shoulder, instantly Harry knows. "I'm sorr-"

"-Don't say it." He cuts her off and he backs away before her fingertips can even graze his arm. He's not even looking at her anymore. "Don't say it."

"But wait a second Harry. At least let her finish. We don't even know-"

"-Dad I know, okay?" he interrupts harshly. "I already know what she's going to say and so do you. So we don't need an announcement for it."

"Harry..."

"Fine!" he says raising his voice even more, so that a few of the doctors turn to them. "If you want to hear it, you can hear it! But I'm not staying to listen to this. When you're ready, I'll be downstairs in the lobby."

His father swallows hard, giving himself time to get his reaction together, so he doesn't make this worse and draw more attention to them. "Go ahead... I'll try to meet you there as soon as I can. But be careful. And if you need anything, just call me, alright?"

But he doesn't even try to acknowledge him. He only turns his back to them both and takes long strides down the hallway toward the visitors' elevator.


	100. 100

The room is fairly dark. And not because it's nighttime, no. Actually it's a little after six o'clock in the morning and the sun is about ready to rise. After Harry's foster dad was given the news about Zayn passing away, he went down to the lobby to get Harry and they left the hospital immediately to go inform his mother. He thought about hiding from Harry the disturbing truth about her relationship with her son, but he figured Harry deserved to at least know that. He deserved to know that he shouldn't feel guilty when his boyfriend's mother could be one of the main reasons he didn't want to live anymore.

He didn't tell him about the things she said about him though, for fear Harry might end up regressing, maybe even hiding his sexuality even more then he knew he was. But he did tell him it was best he stay in the car and not let her see him at all. With regard to what actually happened when his dad went to that door and woke her up a second time, he isn't sure. All he knows is his father told her he'd throw her in jail if she didn't cooperate. Next thing he knew, she was jumping into her own car and they were trailing her to the hospital again.

After making sure she had done what she was supposed to do, and after confirming it was her son, she disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, making it possible for them to finally return home: the one place Harry wanted to be so badly ever since the night had taken a turn for the worse.

Harry was too broken to eat anything his father had made. So he secluded himself in his room, stripped down to his underwear and got in bed as soon as they got home. But now, even 3½ hours and another long crying session later, he still hasn't fallen asleep.

He can't stop laying awake in bed thinking about the things his father said about Zayn's mother. How could she? How could she neglect the one person Harry thought was loved by her? How could she treat him the way she did? But then again, how could his father do what he did to him? Easy. There is an answer to that. One that fits perfectly with both scenarios: Neither parent loved their child as much as they were supposed to.

And nothing can destroy a child quicker than not feeling loved by the only parent they have.

He can't believe how much he misses Zayn already either. It's torture knowing he's shared this very bed with him multiple times, when he knows he won't be able to share those intimate moments with him ever again. It's like he actually was stabbed in the chest by the knife he ended up throwing over the bridge. Because that's where he feels the pain.

Besides his company, Harry already knows of everything else he is going to miss about Zayn as time goes on. Definitely those glasses, and for sure that smile. He knows he'll miss the kisses, whether they were sincere or not. He'll miss being naked with him, of course. And he'll miss how submissive he was all the time. He's aware that some of those times, he was just scared of him. But the times when Harry made him feel alright and made him feel sort of safe; those times when Zayn would look small in his arms, and totally the opposite of a 15 or 16 year old boy, those are what he'll miss. Those are what he wishes he could have back. And it hurts that he can't.

Harry's thoughts are interrupted when he hears a coffeepot start up downstairs. It's the sound of coffee beans being ground up, which tells him his father is up. And even though Harry isn't sure why, after he's been up all night into the morning just like himself, it means he's more than likely going to work.

A few minutes later, as Harry is turning over, he hears a voice whisper in his room. "Harry."

It scares him because he didn't hear him walking up the stairs, but he faces the door. "Dad, you're up?"

"Yeah, I'm up." He turns on the light to Harry's room. "I came to check on you. Are you feeling better?"

Harry shakes his head. "I haven't gotten any sleep. I can't sleep. Are you... Are you going work?"

His foster father comes over to the bed and kneels down beside him. "Yeah. When duty calls, you gotta run to it."

Harry smiles and sighs contently when his father runs a hand through his hair in a repetitive motion. "I really hope you're careful on the way there. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you too."

"Oh, I'll be alright. Unlike you, I did get a little sleep. Besides, I'll be in the office all day today and I'll only be there a half a day. Which means I'll be home around one o'clock. Okay?"

Harry nods, but turns upward to the ceiling. "I want to, but I don't think I'll ever sleep again."

"Of course you will." his dad smiles. "You will. You just need to calm your brain down and try not to think about everything that's happened."

"But I can't not think about it." Harry says turning to him. "How can you say that like it's easy to do?"

His lips start to tremble but his father continues to run his fingers through his hair. "Shh, shh. I'm sorry. You're right. Maybe I should have said that better. But it's alright. Don't work yourself up or you'll be even longer getting to sleep."

"Can you please stay here?" Harry asks and he reaches out to grab his father's T-shirt. "Can you stay here until I fall asleep?"

"Harry I can't. I told you I have to go..." But when he sees the distraught and spaced out look on his face, he gives in to his request. "Okay, I'll stay with you a little longer. But you have to be quiet so you can rest. Understand?"

"Yeah."

He continues to rake his hand through his hair and Harry closes his eyes in an attempt to relax. He does feel a little calmer with him by his side, but really, that's about it. Because he doesn't feel any better. And he isn't getting any sleepier either.

The more Harry ponders his current feelings, the more he thinks this is the way it will always be from now on. He thinks in the days to come, there will continue to be these nights where he feels so tired and out of it, yet he can't sleep. And he feels that he will always be awake and thinking about how he quickly lost Zayn.

There's an eerie feeling that begins to stir in the pit of his stomach and it feels like a gaping hole inside of him. But he understands why that's so. It's hard to be calm when something is missing. It's hard to feel whole when a piece of him is gone. And it's difficult to breathe when he feels like he has no one to live for.

 _Is this is how Zayn felt?_ he thinks as he feels his father kiss his forehead and whisper 'I love you'. _Did Zayn feel empty sometimes? Did he feel alone with no one to live for?_

Maybe, but Harry's not sure. He doesn't know what Zayn felt, or even how he thought. But one thing he does know for sure, is that without Zayn here, and without that beautiful boy looking up at him, he's always going to feel this hollowness inside him. A piece of him will forever be missing. And as long as he can never have it back, then maybe...

Just maybe....

Harry can't be saved either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for reading this, especially if you read it from beginning to end. I do realize this is a very dark story but I have to be honest with you. When I wrote this last summer, I was going through a really awful spell of depression and this is what helped me get through it because I wrote through him. That's why this story is very, very important to me and why no amount of harsh criticism in the comment section is going to make me delete this.
> 
> Need anything? Talk to me on [tumblr!](http://itszaynandharry.tumblr.com/)


End file.
